


Magic's Immortal

by Corwalch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corwalch/pseuds/Corwalch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HP/Highlander It is a well known fact that immortal infants and children do not survive long, but what if the baby/child were immortal and a child of prophecy? This is the story that Law Lesson will eventually be merged into though it will be revised and added to once it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: Yes I know I am supposed to be working on Wiccan Wizard 2 Shall Be or the new story for Wizard of Silence series. I blame them. (Author hooks thumb in general direction of the horde of bunnies huddled in the corner. Every now and then one of the bunnies’ heads would poke up and then go back into the huddle whispering intently.) I don’t know if they are still plotting or playing poker.
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoy. I have no idea when next chapter of any story will be up ~sigh~

**_Magic’s Immortal_**  
Harry Potter/Highlander XOver  
by Corwalch  
  
  
  
  
  
 ** _Loprogue_** _  
  
July 31, 1980, 11pm_  
  
  
All in all it has been a busy day at St. Mungos, Medi-witch Cara Mulberry reflected as she moved back and forth between the two rooms containing patients she was currently helping the senior staff with.  
  
The day had started early that morning with a major Deatheater raid that had included a large number of Dark creatures like werewolves and vampires. As a result there had been a large number of injuries and at least fifteen Auror killed trying to defend the magical portions of Avebury. Two of those killed had been former housemates with Cara in Hufflepuff; David Tambour and Brian Kenneson. Both of them had barely been Aurors for a year before they were killed.  
  
There had also been a large number of witches and wizards with spell related injuries that Cara personally suspected had been self-inflicted so that they could find out what happened and be ahead of the latest gossip.  
  
And on top of all that chaos at least half dozen babies had decided today would be a good day to be born.  
  
This had insured that the staff at St. Mungos had been run ragged, but at least all they had to worry about now that Lady Longbottom had finally given birth about fifteen minutes ago to a healthy baby boy, were the two women who were still in labour. The two muggleborn witches still in labour were also causing the healers taking care of them a great deal of worry though it was for very different reasons.  
  
In one of the birthing rooms was a witch named Angela Kaelin, who had been a classmate of Cara’s while at Hogwarts. They probably would have been really good friends, Cara reflected, if they had been in the same house, but with Angie being in Ravenclaw, the best they had managed was a casual acquaintance.  
  
Cara knew from the hospital grapevine that Angie had been brought in nine months ago, an apparent victim of rape. She had been found unconscious as well as bruised and battered by Aurors near the entrance that went from Diagon Alley to Knockturn Alley.   
  
It had been a widely held belief at the time among those who had found and then treated her that the attack had been done by Deatheaters, but no one had been able to figure out why she had been left alive. It was a well-known fact that Deatheaters wanted all muggleborns dead. Especially those who fought openly against the Dark Lord as Angie did as a member of the DMLE, not to mention she was in the habit of publicly giving him insulting nicknames like Moldy Voldie and a Darth Vader wannabe, whatever that was. Cara suspected that this Darth Vader was a muggle thing, since Angie kept in close contact with her family and her muggle roots. The only thing they had all been sure of was that her attacker was a wizard and one who was very good at memory charms, given Angie had no memory of the event or her attacker.  
  
Personally Cara had doubts that Angie’s attacker being a wizard, Deatheater or any other, given what was happening to Angie’s magical core as she fought to give birth to her child. With every contraction, Angie’s magical core was shrinking and no one at St. Mungos knew why. None of the healers had ever heard of a spell or ritual that could cause this to happen. The Head of the hospital had even contacted Dumbledore and the Unspeakables and even **_they_** knew of no spell, ritual, or creature that could do that, not even a Dementor.  
  
The medi-wizard’s level of concern over saving the life of mother and child had risen to the point where he had called in a squib friend of his who was a muggle doctor. The medi-wizards and witches working on Angie had all agreed that no matter how barbaric it might seem, they were going to have to use muggle methods if they were to have even a remote chance of saving them both.  
  
Cara finished double-checking to make sure all the potions they would need once Dr. Andrews arrived were in Angie’s room and then she went to check on the other mother; Lily Potter.  
  
The reason that the healer in charge of Mrs. Potter’s case was worried was because her baby was three months **early**. According to all the diagnostic spells, her son was not due to be born until around the 31st of October. It was too soon for her son to be born, but all attempts to stop the early labour had failed and as a result there was serious doubt the baby would survive once it was born. It was a well-established fact in the field of medical magic that an infant’s magical core was unstable and dependant upon its mother’s magical core to help keep it in check until the baby reached the seventh month of its development in the womb. It was considered miraculous if a magical baby born before they had passed into the final trimester managed to live and that wasn’t even taking into account whether or not the child would be magical or not. They had not even told Mr or Mrs Potter that their child might be a squib yet. Mrs. Potter was far more worried about the fact that he was early and there might be other complications once he was born.  
  
Setting the stabilising, strengthening, and energy potions on the table nearest the cot that the baby would put on, Cara double-checked to make sure that everything that would be needed to check the Potter’s child over was there before heading back out of the room.  
  
As Cara stepped out into the hall, Jessie Grey stopped her. “Healer Pallas is looking for you. Dr. Andrews is here and he wants your help with Miss Kaelin.”  
  
Cara hurried to the room Angie was in.  
  
“Nurse Mulberry?” The stranger who Cara assumed was Dr. Andrews asked, stopping her just outside the door to Angie’s room.  
  
Cara nodded.  
  
“Good. Nurse, what I need you to do is keep Miss Kaelin calm and keep her attention **_focused on you._** ” Dr. Andrews instructed. “We cannot risk sedating her, given how her magical core is currently behaving, not to mention how unstable her heart rate and blood pressure are.” Cara had no idea what those terms meant, but the doctor went on in a much lower and more emphatic voice. “I cannot stress this enough: _Keep her calm, **without using magic to do it!**_ ”  
  
Cara responded instinctively to the serious tone in the squib doctor’s voice, “Yes, Dr. Andrews.”  
  
When Cara entered Angie’s room, she was surprised to see a white sheet raised halfway above Angie’s swollen belly, hiding it from her view.  
  
“What’s going on?” Angela Kaelin demanded weakly as soon as she saw Cara.  
  
“Your healer is going to be doing something to try and deliver your baby a little quicker.” Cara spoke soothingly.  
  
“Why? Is something wrong?” Angela wanted to know.  
  
Cara knew the former Ravenclaw would accept nothing but the truth, no matter how unpleasant it might be. Angela had also been very well known for being able to spot a lie almost as fast a Slytherin.   
  
“Angie, you need to stay calm,” Cara told her bluntly. “Your life and your son’s are at stake. They are going to have to use muggle methods to deliver you baby and try and keep you both alive. The reason they have to use this method is because something is affecting your magical core and threatening both of your lives.”  
  
Cara noticed that Angie had calmly accepted that news, which surprised her. _Had Angie already figured out that she might not survive the birth of her son?_  
  
Angela reached out and gripped Cara’s wrist tightly and begged in a low voice, “Promise me something.”  
  
“What?” Cara refused to commit herself until she knew what Angie wanted.  
  
“There is a small brown wooden box covered in celtic knotwork in my bag. In it you will find two vials. One is a vial of blood held under a stay fresh charm. David Tambour agreed to blood adopt my son.”  
  
“And the other is the potion the blood needs to be added to.” Cara concluded, quickly concealing her dismay. She had a feeling that she knew what Angie was about to ask her to do. The problem was that David would not be able to take care of her son since he had died earlier that day.  
  
“ **Yes**. If something happens to me…” Angie gasped as another contraction hit her then suddenly vanished. “Make sure David knows what happened to me. He swore on his magic to raise my son if something happened to me.”  
  
Cara took a deep breath. There was no way David would be able to keep that pledge now, but she could not tell Angela that, because she had to keep her calm. Choosing her words with care, Cara told her. “I will make sure your son gets the potion… **if** and only **if** something happens to you.”  
  
Angela Kaelin relaxed, her last worry dealt with.  
  
###  
  
Shortly after midnight, a much weaker Angela Kaelin held her dark haired son for the first and only time. She weakly stoked the dark hair and stared into his emerald eyes so like her own. The baby stared at his mother and was very quiet. To Cara it seemed almost as if he knew there was something very wrong with his mother.  
  
“His name is… _Adam_.” She told Cara. “Make sure David knows the name I chose for him.”  
  
Cara nodded, not saying a word.  
  
Angela closed her eyes, sighed and slipped away.  
  
Cara took the baby to the nursery, the small case Angie had entrusted to her weighing heavily in her pocket. She had not figured out what she was going to do with the potion. She could not use Tambour’s blood, because he was no longer around to assume responsibility for baby Adam and she definitely was not ready to be a mother.  
  
As she settled the still strangely silent baby on the nearest cot in the nursery, Jessie came in carrying a weakly crying baby.  
  
“The Potter’s child?” Cara asked.  
  
“Yes, he was born about 3 minutes before midnight.” Jessie confirmed. “And if he manages to survive until morning, it will be because magic wanted it that way.”  
  
“Have the Potters been told yet?” Cara wondered. It couldn’t be easy hearing that your child had just been born and might soon die.  
  
“Not yet,” Jessie told her. “It was a hard birth for Mrs. Potter. We had to sedate her after the birth and Mr. Potter is with her. He saw his son before we took him out of the room. I feel for the poor dear man, I do not think he knows who to worry about more, his wife or his son.”  
  
“I would think he would be worried about his son.” Cara commented.  
  
“Healer Armitage had to tell him that because of some damage done to her uterus during the delivery, Mrs. Potter will never be able to have another child.” Jessie told her.  
  
“Oh,” Cara did not know what to say to that.  
  
Gesturing to the silent baby watching them both with a strange intensity, Jessie asked, “Is that Kaelin’s child?  
  
Cara nodded. “He was born just before the clock struck midnight. Angela got to hold and name him before she died.”  
  
“Oh the poor thing, an orphan on his birthday. I hope the orphanage can find him a good home. He looks like a lovely child.” Jessie sounded sad at the news then looked at her watch. “I need to do my rounds. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to help with the feedings.”  
  
Cara nodded.  
  
####  
  
The next morning was both joyful and sad at St. Mungos. In one part of the hospital the Potters and Longbottoms were surrounded by family and friends, celebrating the birth of their sons. However in another part of St. Mungos Angela Kaelin and her son were being readied for transport to a funeral home.  
  
And when Cara Mulberry finally made it home, she made sure she destroyed the box that Angie had given her. It was safer that way.  
  
###  
  
On October 31, 1981, Voldemort stood beside the body of Lily Potter, staring into the emerald eyes of one of the two children that a partially heard prophecy had said would pose a threat to his plans of ruling over the whole of the Magical world and ridding it of muggles and the muggleborn filth inhabiting it. With the Potter brat out of the way he would be able to devote all of his attention to locating the Longbottom brat. He considered himself fortunate that the Potter’s change of secret keepers had been to one of his well-hidden agents.  
  
“ _Life as an orphan shall not burden you long, young Potter. And the world will be better without filth like you in it._ ” Voldemort hissed.  
  
The child met his gaze fearlessly as if unconcerned that his death stood less than a meter away as his tiny hand reached out through the bars of his crib to his mother lying on the floor as if begging her to get up.  
  
“ _You will join her very soon,_ ” Voldemort raised his wand and spoke the two most feared words in the wizarding world. “ ** _Avada Kedavra!_** ”  
  
A bolt of sickly green light shot from the wand and struck Harry Potter. The child collapsed without a sound, striking his forehead on one of the bars of his crib.  
  
Voldemort looked around pleased with his night’s work. He had destroyed the first of Dumbledore’s prophesied saviours. All in all a good night’s work, given it would strike fear into the Light and the Dark Lord had no doubt that in their haste to protect the other child they would make a mistake and reveal his location so Voldemort could kill the other child as well.  
  
As he turned to leave the scene of his triumph, Voldemort heard a crackling sound begin to emanate from the area near the Potter brat’s crib. His curiosity getting the better of him, the Dark Lord turned back to the crib and saw blue lightening dancing all over the dead child’s body.  
  
And before he had a chance to react, a bolt of the blue lightening leapt from the child’s body to Voldemort’s wand hand, then engulfed him, binding the two together in a shared lightening storm that spread out to strike the ceiling and the walls. Before the roof collapsed a bolt of sickly green light flew from the child’s body back to Voldemort.  
  
The combination of the lightening and the returned spell reduced Voldemort’s body to ash as the roof beams and other debris rained down, some of it striking the child. A small strand of oily black smoke moved toward Harry while the rest vanished from sight. However its attempt to join with the soul of the infant child failed when the blue lightening destroyed it as it tried to burrow in through the lightening bolt shaped scar that young Harry had gained as he died. The scar healed but it would remain since it had existed before Harry’s immortality awoke.  
  
Harry woke with a scream and started crying.  
  
####  
  
Harry continued to cry as he held out his arms to his mother who was lying on the floor, not moving. He cried for her to come to him and hold him; to make the pain to go away. As fat tears ran down Harry's face, the dust and tiny motes of debris that were floating around in the air, began to gather and swirl around in one of the shafts of moonlight that was coming through the damaged roof. Suddenly the motes of dust and debris changed into a man but one who did not look like other men. The man was very handsome with dark brown hair and eyes. He was wore a snow white poet shirt and a leather vest but what made this man different from others was that he did not have human legs but legs like a goat and a set of small horns that curled back into his golden brown hair as well as a set of pointed ears. He was a faun, a creature out of myth legend. This particular faun had many names, one of them being Robin Goodfellow and he had been made famous by William Shakespeare as Puck the trickster.  
  
Hearing the baby crying he moved over to the crib, stepping carefully over the debris and making sure not to step on the woman’s body. Picking up the child and rocking him, he crooned, “There, there, little one. Puck is here to make everything better.”  
  
As he looked up into amber coloured eyes he had never seen before, the baby stopped crying. Even Uncle Mooey did not have eyes like these. They were oddly shaped.   
  
“You have Angela’s eyes little one," Puck said fondly as he stroked the lightening bolt-shaped scar on Harry’s forehead. "I remember your birth mum well. When she was at Hogwarts she did Lord Oberon a great favour once though she didn’t know at the time she was doing him the favour.”   
  
The stroking finger tickled so Harry reached up, grabbed it and pulled into his mouth to chew on so it wouldn’t go back to tickling him. Puck allowed the child to continue chewing on his finger with his baby teeth as he looked down the body of Lily Potter. "And now you are an orphan for the second time in your young life but you are a lucky one since I am here to repay the favour that Lord Oberon owed your mum. Though I probably would have come to help you anyway just to see what mischief it would cause given what the seers have said your life is prophesied to be like. Unfortunately for you my little Adam… Harry, you are needed to save magic itself from extinction. Life for you will be very hard because not only are you an immortal, but you are now a child of prophecy, not only do you have to fight to preserve the humans of the magical world, most of whom, both my Lord Oberon and I agree are not worth the effort of preserving, but magic itself must be preserved. Seers from all the magical races, fae and many other creature have agreed you will be necessary for that to happen."  
  
Puck pulled his wet, well chewed upon finger out of Harry's mouth. "Luckily I see your immortality already taken care of the piece of the foul monster’s soul that tried to take up residence within you. That makes my task a little easier, since it is never fun to root out evil when it hides within an innocent. Though I see you did manage to keep the skills he had. That ability to speak to snakes will aid you well in the future. My task today is to insure that you are able to grow up so you have a chance to fulfil your destiny and to survive as an Immortal. You will also need a teacher one day, and I know the perfect one, though he will probably scream quite loudly when he realises what I have done.”  
  
####  
  
On November 1, 1981 as the magical community of Britain celebrated the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the survival of The-Boy-Who-Lived. What no human knew was that their survival was due solely to the actions of one witch, who in an act of kindness had assured that parents who wanted a child and had lost one were given a miracle that they never knew about and that one newly orphaned baby in desperate need of a home and family, got one.  
  
And the witch who had done this act of kindness that led to the defeat of Voldemort would never be able to tell a living soul about it given she had been killed in a Deatheater raid on Diagon Alley three months before..  
  
  
  
  
(Author’s Note: Before you start saying that Harry’s real Mom couldn’t have possibly known about Star Wars, according to the IMDB data base the first Star Wars movie came out in 1977, so she could’ve seen it)


	2. Surprise! Here’s your new student

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Please note that while this story takes place during book 5, canon is most likely going to be totally trashed from this point on.

**_Surprise! Here’s your new student_** _  
  
  
  
August 2, 1995_  
  
  
  
  
  
Methos sighed as he stopped in his tracks to look at yet another sign that was pointing out the direction he needed to go to get to a nearby park. While it had been at least fifty years since he’d been in Britain and even longer since he’d been in any part of Surrey, he never thought he would find a place in Britain that made him wonder if perhaps he’d wandered into the village of Stepford.  
  
He had seen neighbourhoods before where the builders used the same cost effective design over and over again so that each house was exactly the same but in each case once people started to live in these homes they took on their owner’s personality but the same could not be said for this area. So far every home and yard he had seen on Privet Drive and Magnolia Crescent all seemed to have this almost desperate need to fit in with everything around it and to be as bland as possible to avoid standing out. It was almost as if the whole area were trying to hide from the world. While Methos had yet to meet any of the people who had lived in this area for a more than a few weeks, if he were to judge them based on the exterior of their homes he was fairly certain he would find them dull, as well as emotionally and mentally draining. In other words watching paint dry would be more exciting and fascinating than they would be.  
  
As Methos looked around at the absurd level of conformity in the neighbourhood, he hoped that whatever caused this it wasn’t contagious. While immortals were immune to all sorts of diseases, this disease of rabid conformity might affect the Connellys, the people MacLeod had come to see. Of course if that happened the Highland child might end up doing something foolish to try and free them from this Stepford village clone.  
  
The Highlander was one of those who took a promise to look out for the family of a deceased comrade in arms very seriously as evidenced by the fight he’d been forced to get involved in to protect the many greats granddaughter of his former Samurai teacher. MacLeod had pledged that he would watch over and protect Koto’s descendants because he felt guilty over the fact that Hideo Koto had been forced to commit ritual suicide because he’d taught a _gaijin_ the ways of the Samurai. And he had kept that pledge a couple of years ago with the katana his teacher had left to him and that he carried in the man’s memory to this day.   
  
The Connelly’s were another such family though not quite on the same level. MacLeod had taken it into his head today to leave Paris and to visit the grandchild of his former comrade in the trenches of World War I. The family had been relocated from the States to Britain by Mr. Connelly’s company and had just completed their move to Surrey and MacLeod wanted to make sure the family was settling in okay The ancient immortal still hadn’t figured out why he had agreed to come with Mac on this side trip. If he was going to be in Britain he would’ve much rather have spent his time in the British Museum not in this Stepford clone. As the sun was setting and while Mac and the Connelly’s were discussing places to see and avoid in Britain, Methos decided to wander around the neighbourhood. He told himself virtuously that he was doing his part to make sure Mac’s charges were going to stay safe.  
  
Under the harsh streetlights that lit the roads and sidewalks, Methos found the park. He was pleased to see that the paths in the park seemed to be well lit, though it looked like if you wandered far enough off the paths you had little if any light. If this had been some place like Central Park in New York City Methos was fairly certain he knew what would be going on in those poorly lit areas, but here he was willing to bet that the only ones he would find going at it like rabbits in those shadowy areas would be the rabbits.  
  
From the entrance he could see two well-lit paths leading into the park itself. On the right hand path, Methos found the first anomaly he’d seen in this Stepford village clone. Near the edge of the circle of light made by one of the lamps was a group of five boys who were, from what Methos could read of their body language, looking for trouble. The ancient immortal couldn’t help wondering if these were boys from another town who came here because of what appeared to be easy prey. _Wolves will always be able to find the sheep, no matter how well they hide and no matter what time of day it was,_ Methos thought to himself as he headed down the left hand path.   
  
As he rounded the corner and was out of sight of the five boys, all of Methos’ immortal senses went on alert as he felt the presence of another immortal. While the presence he was feeling didn’t seem to be very strong… possibly a newbie, he was not about to take that at face value. If an immortal was over a thousand years old, they could with time and patience learn to alter how much of their immortal signature was broadcast to the point where they could feel like a new immortal if they wanted to. It was a favourite trick of some of the older hunters. Fortunately there weren’t too many of those left. Methos had found the reverse was also true. The older the immortal, the sooner they could pick up on the fact there was another immortal around, even if they didn’t quite know where.  
  
According to some of his remaining contacts among the Watchers, there weren’t supposed to be any immortals in this area… at least not any of the known ones, so the odds that the immortal was a newbie was a little more likely. Still it was better to be safe than sorry. After making sure his sword was easily accessible, he went looking for the immortal.  
  
He found the immortal a few minutes later. He was sitting on a swing and was surrounded by the gang Methos had avoided. From what he could hear as he moved closer, it seemed the immortal and the members of the gang knew each other.  
  
“…keep hearing him cry at night over his… _friend_." The fat blond kid was saying in a derogatory way.  
  
“Not really surprised to hear he bats for the home team, considering **_where_** he goes to school.” A rat faced boy commented snidely. “Always thought he looked like he might swing that way given he looks a little girly. I do not see how you can stand to be in the same house with him Big D, even if it is only for two and a half months.”  
  
“Even if I did _bat for the home team_ as you claim rat boy,” the young looking immortal growled getting off the swing, “I have more taste than to want to touch this huge waste of space. In fact I would be surprised to find out that anyone from **either** team wanted **him** unless he or my uncle was willing to pay them for it.”  
  
As Methos shifted a bit closer, he could tell that last comment hadn’t gone over well though he gave the unknown immortal points for having the courage to utter it. A moment later the young immortal hissed and grabbed his head, which told Methos he was finally close enough for the immortal to detect his very muted presence. He saw the gang readying themselves to attack the immortal and decided he’d better interfere before they decided to try and beat him to death raising all sorts of awkward questions about why he hadn’t died.  
  
A sudden intense pain that for once was not centered around his scar pierced Harry’s skull. As he gripped his head feeling as if it was going to explode, he heard an older male voice say. “Unless you would like me to call the police, I suggest you five find somewhere else to play and leave this young man alone.”  
  
The rat faced boy sneered in disgust. “Is this why you were out here all by yourself, Potter? Is he your **_client_** for the evening? Always knew you would be one of those who would have to sell it. If I were you mister, I would be careful. There’s no telling what he has picked you at that school he goes to. It is St. Brutus’ Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, _right_ Potter?”  
  
Harry was surprised when through the almost head splitting pain he heard a deep rich laugh come from the stranger. “Just how stupid are you? … Never mind do not answer that, I already know the answer given you are following the blond blob around like an obedient puppy. For your information there is **no** such place anywhere in the British Isles called St. Brutus’. But if such a place **did** exist and is what you _suspect_ it to be then Mr. Potter here **would not** have been let out for the summer holidays. You see a Secure Centre is just another term for a **_detention_** facility and one goes to a detention facilities year round until their sentence is completed. And if you five keep going the way you are going you will find that fact out first hand.”  
  
After a few moments of silence from the gang, the stranger asked, “Well what is it to be? Will you be leaving on your own? Or do I call the police and have them collect your unconscious bodies?”  
  
While Dudley was not the brightest bulb in the box, something told him not to cross this stranger. Giving his gang a silent signal to head for home, he announced in a drawling voice, “this is _boring_.”  
  
All of the gang but the big blond departed, so while keeping at least part of his attention focused on the blond whale, Methos touched Potter’s arm and said in a low voice, “If you look at me the pain will go away.”  
  
Surprised, Harry did as the man told him and as soon as his eyes met the hazel eyes of the stranger the pain and the strange ringing sensation went away as if they had never been. Equally low voiced so Dudley wouldn’t hear him, Harry asked, “How?”  
  
“I will explain later.” The stranger promised, keeping his voice low. “It is not something that should be discussed in public, if it can be avoided.”  
  
Before turning to leave, Dudley delivered what he thought was his parting shot and threat to his cousin. “Dad is not going to be pleased that one of your freaky friends showed up and threatened me.”  
  
Methos snorted in disbelief. “You are calling **me** a freak? That is rich coming from the walking, talking pot bellied pig I see before me.”  
  
Before Dudley could come up with a suitably snappy comeback, total darkness engulfed the area. Even the lamps that lit the park walkways were no longer visible. The air started to grow cold as well.  
  
Certain that his cousin was responsible, since even though he’d called the stranger a freak, Dudley could not be sure the man was one of _those_ freaks given he dressed normally except for that long leather coat, he demanded in a slightly squeaky voice, “W-what a-are you d-d-doing? S-s-stop it, n-n-now, or I-I w-will m-m-make you.”  
  
“I am not doing it.” Harry protested as he recognised what the cold depressing feeling and total darkness meant was coming… **_Dementors_**!. He pulled out his wand.  
  
There was enough light for Dudley to spot the wand in Harry’s hand and he struck out without thinking. The blow caught his cousin on the side of the head and sent Harry sprawling to the ground. “ **What has dad told you about using your _freakish_ powers on us?** ”  
  
Harry groaned silently as his wand was knocked out of his hand when he hit the ground. “It is not me!” Harry repeated as he frantically started searching for his wand in the darkened area.  
  
As he felt around on the ground for his wand, Harry noticed that the stranger was holding something long and slender in his right hand. He could not make out too much detail but whatever it was, it was longer and wider than a wand. The man was also looking around though as if he too knew something dangerous was coming.  
  
“You are lying!” Dudley shrieked as he took another swing at his cousin, thinking that if he were unconscious the feeling would go away.  
  
The second blow was blocked by the stranger’s arm and when he caught sight of the sword in the man’s right hand, Dudley backed up so quickly he fell.  
  
As Dudley started to scramble back away from the lunatic with the sword, Harry gasped. “Dudley, we need to stay together. And whatever you do, **_keep your mouth closed_**!  
  
Harry continued to hunt for his wand. Where could it be? Dudley couldn’t have knocked it that far away. Finally in frustration, he shouted, “ ** _Lumos!_** ”  
  
Methos saw something light up a few feet away from Potter, as the boy quickly scrambled to pick it up. He recognised it a moment later. **_A Wand!_** This boy was a magical immortal! Well that certainly complicated things. There was no way he could simply hand this boy off to MacLeod. The Highlander would not be able to handle a wizard, only he would.  
  
The realization that Potter was a magic user finally allowed Methos to figure out why that cold depressing feeling and the darkness around them felt familiar… _Dementors were nearby._ “Damn I thought those vile things had all been destroyed.”  
  
“You recognise them?” Harry wanted to confirm his guess that this man was a wizard.  
  
“Dementors, right?” Methos wanted his guess confirmed.  
  
Harry nodded as Dudley collapsed back on the ground, curling up into a ball. “Can you cast the patronus charm?”  
  
“I am a little rusty,” Methos admitted, “but if we want to get out of this with our souls intact, we do not have much of a choice.”  
  
As soon as he finished saying those words, he spotted a pair of Dementors gliding toward them.  
  
Shifting his sword quickly to his left hand, Adam extended his right hand palm facing toward the Dementors as Potter extended his wand and cried out at the same time as Potter. ““ _Expecto Patronum!_!”  
  
His patronus, Artur, appeared in his usual celtic armour, chain mail over leather, his sword in his glowing hand. Methos knew his patronus would cause comments if seen by adult wizards, since it was very unusual to have a human shaped patronus, but Artur the ruler of Ancient Britania was the most powerful protector he knew and a very good friend. Artur raced toward the Dementors, as he had once charged toward the Anglo-Saxon hordes, swinging his sword and he was joined shortly by a second fully corporeal patronus in the form of a stag. His estimation of Potter’s magical skills and power went up a few notches.  
  
Based on his size, Methos had guessed the boy to be around thirteen or fourteen, so that meant he was either a prodigy in his spell work or else a very powerful young wizard.  
  
The pair of Dementors were quickly destroyed which was only something a corporeal patronus that bore weapons, like the stag’s horns or Artur’s sword, could do.  
  
His task done, Artur saluted Methos before vanishing and the stag trotted back to young Potter to be petted before also vanishing from sight.  
  
“Who are you?” Harry asked as he went over to check on his cousin, who was still curled into a blubbering ball on the ground.  
  
“You can call me Adam,” Methos gave him the first name of his current alias as he pulled out his cell phone out of his duster pocket and hit #2 on it.   
  
Once MacLeod answered, he snapped out an order, “Mac, keep the Connelly’s inside. I ran into something dangerous out here.” He paused as the voice Harry could barely hear on the other end spoke. “No, in this case you can not help. I know what it is and how to deal with it. You do not. The two I ran into have already been taken care of. I just do not know if there are any more out here and if there are you will just wind up dead, if you meet them.” Another pause. “I will explain later, but you and the Connellys need to stay inside. I have got to go.”  
  
Adam closed his phone before this Mac person could say anything more and put his sword away before reaching down to help Potter pull his cousin to his feet and then steady him.   
  
Harry started to put his wand away so he could help shoulder some of Dudley’s weight when he heard an elderly female voice he recognised as Mrs. Figg’s shriek, “Do not put that away, fool boy! What if there are more of them around.”   
  
Mrs. Figg quickly shut up when she caught sight of Adam. “Damn you, Mundungus Fletcher! I’m going to kill you! I cannot take care of this situation.”  
  
“What situation?” Adam asked calmly. “And who is this Mundungus Fletcher?”  
  
Mrs. Figg ignored him as she hissed at Harry like an angry goose. “I know why you had to do it, but you **know** the rules, Harry. Now we have to figure out how to deal with the situation you have created until the reversal squad can get here.”  
  
“I can hear you madam, I am not deaf.” Adam told her. “As for the Statue of Secrecy, there has been no breach.”  
  
“And just who are you?” Mrs. Figg demanded surprised that he knew about the Statue of Secrecy.  
  
“That is between Mr. Potter and myself.” Adam told her. “But if there are any repercussions from his actions in saving his cousin, I shall be taking care of them with the Ministry. Now, shall we go before any more of them show up?”  
  
Harry nodded, shouldering as much of Dudley’s weight as he could. His instincts were telling him to trust this man even though he had just met him. Most would say he was being a fool, Snape especially, but over the years he had learned to listen to his instincts. Like with Ron and Hermione. They were friends, just not as good a friend as he thought they would be. Things would be changing in their relationships this year, depending on their answers as to why they hadn’t written him over this summer, when he _really_ needed to hear from and talk with them.  
  
“Do you two live nearby?” Adam asked.  
  
Harry nodded again and pointed toward the quickest way out of the park. “Why are you here, Adam? Did Dumbledore send you?”  
  
“Dumbledore didn’t send him. He is not in the rotation of people assigned to keep an eye on you. I know all of them.” Mrs Figg told him with certainty, as she wondered where this wizard had come from and how he had found Harry. Dumbledore had said the wards would keep any wizard from finding the boy unless they already knew where he was. Was this park beyond the edge of the wards?  
  
“Keep an eye on me? _Rotation of people..._ Just how many people have been watching me _on Dumbledore’s orders_?” Harry felt a burst of anger begin. Dumbledore had had people watching him and no one had bothered to tell him. It was also apparent from what Mrs. Figg had said that she knew about the magical world and she had been taking care of him for how many years and allowed the Dursleys treatment of him to continue. "I take it you have been watching me too… also on Dumbledore’s **_orders_**. Have been reporting on me to him too? I’ mean you are a witch aren’t you?”  
  
“No, I’m a Squib.” She didn’t sound angry like Filch over that fact. “Which is why I told you to keep your wand out since I can not do anything to drive off Dementors. I can only feel their presence. When Dung took off after that batch of cauldrons that fell off a broom, I had a feeling there was going to be a problem. I told that fool he shouldn’t leave you unprotected, but he did as he damn well pleased. He knew I couldn’t protect you and yet he left you unprotected. I had Mr. Tibbles watching you and he let me know that you had left the safety of your home…”  
  
Harry snorted at that. “You and I have different ideas of what constitutes safety.”  
  
Adam remained silent listening to the discussion between Potter and this woman who was obviously viewed in the magical world as one of the ní bheannaigh. He had recognised the term Squib, which had only been around for about the last one hundred years in the magical world, partly because they felt the need to insult those who didn’t have active magic.   
  
The name Dumbledore sounded familiar to him but it took him a moment to place it; the attack on the fortress of Grindelwald. Winston Churchill whose life he had saved from a magical agent of Grindelwald’s in January of ‘43 when the Prime Minster had been in Casablanca for a meeting had asked him in ‘45 to aid the magical forces that were going to be attacking Grindelwald’s fortress in taking the man out prior to the assault they were planning in Normandy. He had reluctantly agreed to do so only because Grindelwald was holding the elder wand of the Peverells and as long as he had it no “wanded” wizard would be able to take the man out. He had succeeded in getting the wand away from Grindelwald killing him in the process, but his current identity Robert Bronson had ‘died’ from stab wound he received from a member of the Gestapo who had been there. He had learned later that Dumbledore had taken the elder wand from his hand and claimed victory over Grindelwald.  
  
It was apparent from what he was hearing that Dumbledore hadn’t changed. The man was apparently keeping Potter very isolated, which meant there was something going on and it involved the boy and he was willing to bet everything in his vault that the Alchemist was keeping that information very close to his beard covered chest so that no one else knew what was going on. Dumbledore had kept the fact that he was Grindelwald’s former lover from everyone until only he and ‘Robert’ were facing Grindelwald and then it had been Grindelwald who had revealed that lovely bit of news. The fool had just wanted to capture the man and lock him away, but Adam had learned the hard way…never leave someone bent on world domination alive, especially if you know they will not change.  
  
Mrs. Figg gave Harry a reproachful look. “You were safe from Deatheaters as long as you remained in the Dursley home.”  
  
“You mean so long as I remained within the walls of my prison.” Harry countered liking the facts less and less. “So I’ve been under observation by a team of guards all my life and no one thought to step in when I was being beaten up by my cousin and his friends outside the house.”  
  
“No the people watching you have only been doing so this summer and they were under orders to watch but not interfere unless a wizard or witch was involved.” Mrs Figg told him. “Dumbledore thought the Ministry might try something and wanted to be able to head it off and if Mundungus had not left, you would not have had use magic outside school and would not be looking at a charge of under-aged magic. And I have to figure out how to alert Dumbledore before the Ministry can send someone to snap your wand.”  
  
“Of course they will.” Harry commented sarcastically. “None of those wastes of space at the Ministry want to admit the truth and I am fairly certain the sheep of magical Britain are going along with them. Nice to know what the people of the wizarding world think of their heroes.”  
  
“Good Lord, boy, they told me you were intelligent…” Mrs Figg stared at him as he and the stranger that Harry had called Adam continued to help Harry’s cousin walk down Privet Drive toward the Dursley home. “Surely you understand why most of them do not even want to contemplate that **_He_** might be back.”  
  
“All I see is they are once again going to try and make me the scapegoat for whatever goes on and that Dumbledore, by your own admission is determined to treat me like a mushroom.” Harry countered.  
  
“Huh,” Mrs. Figg didn’t understand what mushrooms had to do with the situation.  
  
“Kept in the dark and fed on bullshit.” The stranger put in for the first time.  
  
“That is not what was happening.” Mrs. Figg disagreed. “Dumbledore arranged protection for him so he could continue to enjoy the childhood he has outside the magical world.”   
  
“ _Rrrriiiiiggghhhttt!_ ” Harry snorted.  
  
“While I will admit, his leaving you with the Dursleys was not the best choice,” Mrs. Figg acknowledged. “The other options could have been a lot worse.”  
  
“Like me growing up with my godfather.” Harry reminded her. “I mean I could have actually had a real childhood with someone who wanted me instead of a life like a Malfoy house elf, but no the Ministry could not even be bothered to insure he had a trial even when I told them that Pettigrew was still alive, and God forbid that he should have had one before being sentenced to Azkaban nearly fourteen years ago. I wonder if Dumbledore arranged that as well.”  
  
They had reached the walkway to #4 Privet Drive when they heard a loud cracking sound. The smell of alcohol filled the area as a squat, unshaven man who was wobbling slightly appeared. Adam moved quickly grasping the man by the throat before he could steady himself.   
  
“Who are you?” Adam growled.  
  
“That is Mundungus Fletcher.” Mrs Figg told him. “You can let him go.”  
  
“Oh, so this is the man who abandoned his guard post to go make an illegal galleon. Mr. Fletcher, do you realise that Mr Potter and his cousin nearly got their **_souls_** sucked out because **_you_** decided that your illegal activities were **more important** than your duty to **_protect_** him.” Adam growled, shaking the man a little. Adam’s other hand was going through the man’s pockets as he said this. He dumped everything he found on the ground, before hurling the man a few feet away.  
  
“Those are mine!” Fletcher croaked in protest as the strange man scooped everything up.   
  
Adam stalked over to him and gripped his throat again, before growling in a low voice. “No they are not. I am fairly certain these items were never **yours**.” He held up a silver heart-shaped locket. “I will make arrangements to find their **real** owners and return them and those I can not find an owner for will belong to Mr. Potter as payment for your failure of your assigned duty to protect him from Dementors. Keep protesting and I will insure you never have to worry about making another illegal deal.”  
  
Looking into the cold crystalline hazel eyes, Dung felt as if he were staring into the eyes of Death. As he was again let go Dung quickly backed away deciding not to protest the loss of his stolen goods, grateful that the stranger hadn’t decided to carry out his threat. Then the words the man used finally penetrated his drunken mind “There were Dementors here?”  
  
“Yes, you worthless pile of bat droppings.” Mrs. Figg screeched. “Dementors tried to attack Harry on **your** watch, you drunken idiot! You need to let Dumbledore know. Now! And tell him I need to talk to him… as soon as possible.” She gave the man who had attacked Dung a knowing glance.  
  
“Ok, ok, I ‘m a goin’. I ‘m a goin’.” Dung gestured with his hands placatingly, before disappearing once more with a crack.  
  
Mrs. Figg looked at the spot he had disapparated from and muttered. ”I hope he gets to Dumbledore before the Ministry can get around to sending someone here.”   
  
Then she shambled off toward her home leaving the stranger and Harry to deal with his cousin. Dumbledore had made it quite clear the Dursleys were not to know she was connected in anyway to the magical world.  
  
#####  
  
The door was locked when Harry tried to open it, so Adam knocked peremptorily to get the attention of whoever was in the lit house. A moment later a blurry shape appeared in the bubbly glass. And then a blonde woman with a very long neck opened the door and once she caught sight of her son she screeched out, “Diddy… It is about time. I was beginning to… Diddy, what’s the matter?”  
  
Both Harry and Adam whom Petunia had yet to notice, gave Dudley a quick glance and saw how green his face was starting to look and quickly shifted out of the way, just before he swayed in place for a moment then vomited all over the doormat and some of the spray got on his mother’s shoes.  
  
“DIDDY! Diddy, what’s the matter with you?” When her son failed to answer just standing there swaying and beginning to look even greener if that were possible, she shrieked, “Vernon? VERNON!”  
  
Adam heard a set of feet stomp toward the front door. A large man almost the size of the blond blimp appeared looking around wide eyed.  
  
“Vernon, he’s ill!” the woman told her husband as he reached the doorway and managed to avoid stepping in the slowly spreading pool of vomit.   
  
Vernon helped his wife bring Dudley into the house. They started to close the door behind them, but Adam stuck his foot between the door and the frame quickly and the Dursleys never noticed that it did not close as they took their son to the kitchen trying to find out what had happened. All the while they were asking questions, sometimes speaking over each other as they tried to find out what happened.  
  
“Are they always like that?” Adam asked Harry as they stepped over the threshold.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Sometimes."   
  
"Is that sometimes they are worse or sometimes they are better?" Adam asked.  
  
“Just sometimes,” Harry repeated. “It is not like what I want matters since it seems that Dumbledore is in control of my life and what happens in it.”  
  
“Maybe not for much longer.” Adam countered.  
  
“I have heard that before.” Harry told him simply  
  
It was quite clear to Adam that Potter was almost as cynical as he was and couldn’t help wondering what kind of life the boy had led to be this cynical this early in life. It had taken him centuries to acquire this level of cynicism.   
  
“You said we needed to talk, so talk.” Harry got back to the matter at hand.  
  
“Where is your room?”  
  
Harry gestured toward the stairs as they both heard Dudley in the kitchen loudly say, “Him.”  
  
“BOY! GET IN HERE! NOW!” Vernon bellowed.  
  
Harry sighed and headed for the kitchen with Adam right behind him.  
  
Adam could not believe how sterile the kitchen looked. Nobody should be this anal about cleanliness.  
  
“What did you do to my son?” The huge man who was apparently named Vernon demanded to know.  
  
“Nothing.” Adam could tell Potter did not expect to be believed.  
  
“What did he do to you, Diddy?” His mother asked him. “Did he use his… you-know-what on you?”  
  
Slowly and with a very shaky head, Dudley nodded.  
  
“That’s a lie!” Adam spoke up for the first time.   
  
Before Petunia or Vernon could respond a screech owl flew into room narrowly missing Harry’s gorilla of an uncle’s head. It flew straight at Harry and dropped the letter it was carrying so it fell at Harry’s feet.  
  
“I knew it! You did use your freakishness on my son.” Vernon growled as he started moving toward his nephew his hands curled into fist. “What did you do?”  
  
“Mr. Potter did nothing to your porker of a son, except save his life.”” Adam got between Vernon and Harry as the boy picked up the letter and started to read it.  
  
“My son is not a **porker** ,” Petunia spat out in defence of her son as she closed the kitchen window. “That is just baby fat.”  
  
Adam rolled his eyes, before pointing at the huge boy at the table. “If **_that_** is a **_baby_** , then god help us when it grows up. There will be no food left in the world.”  
  
“And just who the hell are you?” Vernon looked Methos over, his lip curled back in disgust. While the man was dressed in demins and a pullover the long leather coat he was wearing marked him out that someone who was clearly not normal. “Are you one of those freaks like _he_ is?”   
  
“Actually it is you and your neighbours who are the freaks.” Adam countered. “Have you looked around your neighbourhood? All the homes look **exactly** the same. You all seem to have the same cars in your driveways. Even the lawns have the same patterns mowed into the grass. That **is not** natural. Every home in this neighbourhood is a clone of every other one and I am willing to bet that the families are too. Even though Harry and I can do magic, we are probably the only normal people here.””  
  
“YOU… YOU ARE FREAKS!” Vernon roared. “And his freakishness,” Vernon pointed angrily at Harry, “almost killed my son.”  
  
“Are you deaf?” Adam inquired in mock solicitude. “Because I could have sworn I just told you Mr. Potter **saved** your son… from Dementors. If it wasn't for the fact that he is a better man than your bully of a son and just happened to be there at the right moment then you would most likely be receiving a call from the police informing you that your son has been taken to the hospital. And the Hospital would be telling you that he suffered a stroke due to his being **severely** overweight and is now in a permanent vegetative state.”  
  
Adam heard a gasp from behind him and saw Harry pale and start to head for the door. He grabbed hold of Harry’s arm. “What is wrong?”  
  
“Ministry… coming,” Harry gasped.   
  
Adam understood. “I will not let them take you or your wand. We will deal with them. You have my oath on that.”  
  
Harry saw him glow briefly as there was another resounding crack. They all looked around and Harry spotted the owl sitting on the kitchen sill having collided with the closed window. Harry went over and opened it. The owl stuck out its leg and Harry took the letter.  
  
“MORE RUDDY OWLS!” Vernon spat, his eyes narrowed in hatred. “WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT THOSE RUDDY BIRDS BEING IN MY HOUSE! I WANT YOU AND THEM GONE!”  
  
“What happened to Dudley?” Petunia asked trying to inject some calm into the discussion.  
  
“Dementors.” Harry told her after folding and putting the note from Arthur Weasley in his pants pocket. “Somehow they found us.”  
  
“What are these Dementie things?” Vernon demanded.  
  
“De… men… tors,” Harry spoke slowly and clearly. “There were two of them.”  
  
“That does not tell me what the ruddy hell these Dementors are.” Vernon snapped at Harry.  
  
“They are the guards at the wizard prison Azkaban.” Petunia said dully, her face very pale as she realised what could have happened to her son.  
  
“How do you know about that?” Harry asked as his aunt clapped her hand over her mouth as if she had just uttered a disgusting swear word.  
  
Petunia lowered her hand and ground out from between clenched teeth. “I heard… that awful boy… telling her about them… years ago.”  
  
“You still will not say my parents names will you?” Harry shook his head sadly.  
  
“So these Dementy-whatsits actually exist?” Vernon looked at his wife for confirmation.  
  
“Yes,” Adam spoke up again. “They are normally under the control of the Ministry of Magic, so I can not help wondering where these two came from?”  
  
“Ministry of Magic?” Vernon could not believe what he had just heard. “There are people like you in government? No wonder everything in this country is so messed up. So what do these dementy things do?”  
  
“As your wife told you, they normally guard the wizarding prison of Azkaban. They generate a field and feed off negative emotions, by suppressing the positive ones.” Adam told him. “They also have one other weapon, it is called the Kiss. With it they suck a person’s soul out of their body. The body is still alive but as they say in America, the porch lights are on but no one is home.”  
  
“And one of these dementy things attacked my son?”  
  
“They were going to,” then Adam emphasised, “and if it weren’t for your nephew your son would no longer be here.”  
  
Before Vernon could make any other comments, another owl flew through the open window and skidded like a feathery cannonball across the table, sending the dishes crashing to the ground and causing the Dursleys to jump in fright.  
  
Harry took the new message from the owl, opened and read it. Adam could tell he looked a little calmer after reading it but not much.  
  
“Enough… effing… owls.” Vernon growled, stomping over to slam the window shut behind the departing owl with more force than was necessary.  
  
As Harry put the third letter in the pocket of his rather large pants, Vernon asked, “Well, have they sentenced you to anything? Are we finally going to be rid of you? Any chance there is a Death penalty for what you have done?”  
  
Harry shrugged with regards to the last question. “Got a hearing in a few weeks.”  
  
“And they will sentence you then?” Vernon looked hopeful.  
  
“Most likely, given they want me gone.” Harry told him bluntly. “I told the Ministry something they don’t want to believe and they want to silence me.”  
  
“What?” Petunia wanted to know. She had to know if his presence was going to endanger her family.  
  
“I told them Voldemort is back.” Harry told her.  
  
Harry was surprised when the Dursleys flinched like those in the Wizarding world at mention of the name. The only one who didn’t was Adam and he couldn’t help wondering why.  
  
“I have heard that name before,” a look of comprehension crossed Vernon’s face. “That is the name of the freak who…”  
  
“… killed my parents.” Harry finished dully.  
  
“That Dumbledore bloke said he was gone.” Vernon countered impatiently.  
  
“Well he came back.” Adam could tell that Harry’s patience was rapidly running out.  
  
“Back,” Petunia whimpered her face growing pale.  
  
“Yes,” Harry agreed. "I saw him come back a month ago. Of course no one who works for the Ministry believes me or if they do they are not willing to admit it.”"  
  
“Hang on hang on,” Vernon growled. “You meant to say the one who murdered your parents and got us saddled with you is back. Is he the one who sent those Demetie things after you?”  
  
“I have no idea.” Harry told him. “Maybe.”  
  
“I see.” Vernon looked at his wife as if having a silent conversation. “That settles it then. You are no longer welcome in this house.”  
  
“So this is how you treat the person who saved your son’s life.” Adam commented dryly.  
  
“ **It is because of him that my Duddy nearly got killed.** ” Vernon shouted. “He is endangering my family and I want him OUT!”  
  
“It is because of him that your son still has his **_soul_** ” Adam countered. “If the Dementors were sent by this Voldemort, then that means he knows the general area where you live and it will not take him long to find you. Unless you are planning on leaving too, you will be left defenceless, if Mr. Potter is gone.”  
  
Before Vernon could say anything further there was a brief flash of fire on the kitchen table and when it vanished a red envelope was there. No one touched it as it began to smoke and then a voice that sounded vaguely familiar said “ _Remember my last, Petunia_ ”  
  
Petunia sank into a chair, her face even paler.  
  
“What the hell was that?” Vernon demanded of his wife.  
  
When she remained silent, Vernon said in a softer tone. “Pet?”  
  
Petunia swallowed looking at her husband and told him. “The boy will have to stay.”  
  
“W-what?” Vernon could not believe she wanted to keep the boy after he had placed their son in danger.  
  
“If we throw him out now the neighbours will talk.” Petunia’s face was regaining its normal colour. “They will ask awkward questions, we can not answer. They will want to know what happened to him, and you know how quick they are to leap to the wrong conclusion.”  
  
“Well, now that that is settled,” Adam spoke up before Vernon could say anything else, “Mr. Potter and I need to talk.”  
  
####  
  
As soon as Adam entered Potter’s room he raised an eyebrow at the obvious inequality of the furnishings when compared with the rest of the house. It drove the point home that the Dursleys loathed this young man and would only ever do the bare minimum of what was required to keep people from asking questions. He gestured with his right hand at the four walls, ceiling, and floor of the room.  
  
“What did you do?” Harry wanted to know.  
  
“Put up silencing wards.” Adam told him. “In case there are eavesdroppers outside.”  
  
Harry nodded. He had a feeling this was one conversation that he didn’t want others to hear either. Then he got right to the point. “Who are you and what was that pain in my head from?”  
  
“Would you like me to call you Harry, or Potter?” Adam wanted to know.  
  
“Harry will be fine.” Harry told him. “Get on with it please.”  
  
“The name I am currently going by is Adam so you can call me that.” Adam told him. “As for what happened tonight, I will give you the cliff notes version for now since it is a bit late and then I would like a quick update on what is currently going on in the wizarding world if you don’t mind. We can go into things in more detail when I come back tomorrow”  
  
“You don’t know what’s been going on in the magical world?” Harry found that kind of hard to believe.   
  
Adam shook his head. “I have not had any reason to visit the magical communities since the end of the Second World War but I do need to know what is going on since it looks like I will be going back there for a while.”  
  
Harry looked at the man sceptically. “You don’t look that old.”  
  
“Thank you,” Adam bowed slightly. “I wish I could say it was due to clean living, but it is not and given you are like me one day someone else will be making the same claim about you. But I'm curious about how you wound up here with people who clearly consider you like a leper? I know the last time I was in the wizard world children were normally taken in by magical relative, instead of being sent to non-magical ones. I find it hard to believe that things have changes so quickly in such a short period of time.  
  
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I was told that Aunt Petunia was my closest living relative and I had to go to her because of that.” he answered. “And what do you mean magical relative?”  
  
“While she may be the closest if not only blood kin on your mother’s side, unless the magical population of Britain has nearly been wiped off the face of the earth, then there should be a number of equally close relatives on your father’s side of the family, given how much magical Britain has intermarried over the years.” Adam stated as a thoughtful look crossed his face. “As for your living arrangements someone is controlling them who shouldn’t be, because until that Howler arrived your Aunt was in agreement with your Uncle that you should leave. Someone in the Magical world is holding something over her to get her to keep you here even though I have a feeling that if she had had a choice you would have wound up in the nearest rubbish bin away from Privet Drive that she could find the day you first arrived. It is fairly obvious to me that she _loathes_ magic and anything having to do with it. I wonder if she will one day wind up loathing her own grandchild?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Harry demanded.  
  
“Given your cousin felt the full effect of the Dementor, he is one of the ní bheannaigh, it means the Not Blessed.” Adam told him before he could ask. “It is a more polite term than Squib. I am willing to bet your Aunt is as well. Basically what that means is he has magic within him, he just cannot use it. However, if he marries another of the ní bheannaigh then there is a possibility that their child would be able to do magic.”  
  
Harry snorted at the thought of Dudley the whale getting married let alone fathering a child. "I doubt anyone will want to marry Dudley unless they have the intelligence of a flobberworm. And Dudley would need to have a personality transplant because he is a lot like his father only he has no restraint.”  
  
“You do have a valid point, but I have learned never to underestimate the cunning of a desperate woman. With enough alcohol you could wind up an uncle.“ Adam looked at Harry for a moment before he sat down on the boy’s bed. “Now what can you tell me about this Darth Vader wannabe Runs-from-Death?”  
  
“Darth Vader wannabe and Runs-from Death.” Harry echoed back while giving him a looked that said he was questioning his sanity.  
  
“From the way your Aunt reacted, I figure he is trying to be Darth Vader and probably a pale imitation at best, if only for the magical world and Voldemort means _Flight-from-Death_. Flight means run. Hence he is a Darth Vader wannabe because he is afraid of Death.”   
  
Harry had to suppress his laughter again at the thought of Voldemort running from death, given all the death he had dealt out in his lifetime. “The Emperor might be a better description of him than Darth Vader, if I remember what I heard of the movies correctly. Vader’s was the Emperor right hand man and Voldemort is no one servant. Besides Vader was a good guy once and again at the end of the movies or so I have heard. I do not think Voldemort was ever good.”  
  
“Right.” Adam nodded in agreement. “Powerful bad guy with no soul or conscience, probably a text book psychopath.”  
  
“Psychopath?” Harry had not heard the term before. His knowledge of things outside of primary school level education was somewhat limited to what he overheard on the television or read in the books on the shelves that Dudley had never touched, or had heard Hermione talk about.   
  
“It means someone who is mentally unstable and does not feel guilty about not living up to what is considered normal behaviour and exhibits a disregard for the feelings and safety of others.“ Adam told him then added thoughtfully, “And given his name he chose for himself, he might be a bit of a narcissist too.”  
  
Harry shrugged and nodded as if he understood the last word the same way he did with Hermione when she started using big words and asking her to explain the unknown words sometimes was not worth the trouble. He made a mental note to look them up later in the dictionary up on the shelf then returned to one of the things Adam had said that did not seem to be right. “And why did you say that you and I are the same earlier? As far as I can see you and I have nothing in common other than being wizards and you are lot more powerful than I am. I certainly cannot do any spells wandlessly like that silencing ward you just put up.”  
  
Adam sighed. There was never any easy way to do this. “You are an immortal, like me. At some point in the recent past you died and came back to life.”  
  
Harry laughed. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”  
  
No,” Adam shook his head as he pulled out a small switchblade knife.  
  
The knife’s appearance had Harry backing up wand extended, in case the man decided to attack him. Then he watched in morbid fascination as the man drove the blade through his hand and pulled it back out, covered in blood.  
  
“Watch my hand,” Adam instructed.  
  
Harry stared at the bloody hand in stunned amazement as blue lightning danced across the wound. Once the lightning was gone Adam turned his hand over so Harry could see that both sides contained no signs of a wound or even a scar.  
  
“ _Merlin!_ ” Harry sighed earning a smirk from Adam that he didn’t understand just before he fainted.  
  
“Well that was certainly different.” Adam commented as he moved the unconscious boy onto the bed and sat down to wait for him to wake up.  
  
#######  
  
“State your business.” The goblin barely glanced up at the wizard dressed in muggle clothes including what looked like a long leather coat.  
  
“I would like to be taken to my vault please.” A low voice requested politely in Gobbledegook.  
  
“Do you have your key?” The goblin teller wanted to know.  
  
The wizard handed over a silver coloured key.  
  
The goblin’s eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets as he realised what it was he held. A key made of pure elven silver. There had only been five of these keys ever made and they had been given to the only wizards that Goblins had considered their equals. Four of them were back in Gringotts control waiting to see if there would be an heir to claim those vaults, but the fifth… It belonged to the greatest wizard of all time and according to the goblin records he was still alive even after more than 1300 years.   
  
The goblin looked up into the hazel eyes that were watching him and said **_very very_** respectfully, “I will take you down personally, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: to get an idea of what Methos was referring to when he called Dudley a pot bellied pig if you have never seen one please go to this site: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pot-bellied_pig. Dudley is the last picture.
> 
> The term ní bheannaigh is Gaelic/Irish for Not Blessed.


	3. Law Lesson

**_Law Lesson_**   
by Corwalch   
  
  
  
Ollivander looked up in surprise when he heard the bell that he had hung over the door to his shop jingle. It was not time for the next batch of first year students who would be attending Hogwarts to be brought into his shop either by proud parents or one of the teachers acting as an escort for a child from a returning magical bloodline. Then he felt it, the presence of… an _immortal_. It was not Potter’s. He was certain of that. The boy’s presence was not that strong… yet. Which meant someone who was both magical and immortal had found him.   
  
The _warning presence_ didn’t feel that strong, but it was definitely stronger than a new immortal’s would be. As far as he knew there were very few magical immortals in the world. In fact the last he had heard there were only about five and most of those with one exception were over two millennium old and the ones most desired by immortal hunters for the strength of their quickenings.   
  
If it were a magical immortal he was fairly certain they would not be here to duel. It was an unwritten addition to the code among the magical ones that magical ground like holy ground was safe since there was no telling what a quickening would do in the magical environment and no one was really eager to put it to the test. That didn’t rule out a hunter or other immortal though since it was always possible that a non-magical one could wind up being introduced to the magical world if they were the adoptive parent or guardian of a child from a returning magical bloodline, but they would need help to enter the magical world since they would not be able to find the portals on their own.   
  
While he habitually kept his _presence_ muted to keep any immortals from realizing just how old he was, he made sure to mute it even further as he had with Mr. Potter so that it would not be felt because of all the energy being put out by the wands, before reaching for the short sword he kept hidden under his workbench. Sliding it within the sheath he had for it in his robes Ollivander double-checked to make sure he could get to it easily if the unknown immortal proved to be a threat.   
  
Stepping into the main area of his store, he caught sight of the slender man with golden brown hair. The man’s face was turned away from Ollivander as he appeared to be examining the wand in the window.   
  
"That wand belonged to Myrddin. It was returned to me with instructions to keep it safe until he needed it again." Ollivander told the stranger fairly confident he would not recognize the name.   
  
The stranger snorted then countered calmly. "The last time I was in magical Britain, I did not need or use a wand," before turning around so that Ollivander could see the hazel eyes of an old friend. "Hello Octavius. I hope you have some decent beer around here and not that piss you tried to pass off on me last time."   
  
"Demetrius," Ollivander sighed with a touch of exasperation as he relaxed slightly but did not let his guard down completely. "It has been quite a while."   
  
"Three centuries at least," Adam agreed as he picked up the wand from the cushion and used it to scratch an itch on his back. "So how many people have fallen for that story of yours that this is Merlin’s wand?"   
  
Ollivander sighed at the antics of his old friend. "Not too many ask any more. Most in the magical community do not realise that Myrddin and Merlin were…" He paused there and then corrected himself, "...are actually the same person."   
  
Ollivander shook his head at thought of what Magical Britain and the wizard world, albeit at a much slower rate, were losing in their determination to ignore what they did not want to see. Sooner or later he knew there would be another revolution because of the laws the magical governments were enacting and their interference in what the schools were teaching. He was also fairly certain that magical Britain would not remain under human control if that happened. "And you do know that is a wand and not a back scratcher?"   
  
Adam dropped the wand back on the cushion. "That was a back scratcher and you know it. After all you stole it from...."   
  
"Do not **dare** mention **that** name," Ollivander ordered pointing his finger at Adam in a threatening manner.   
  
Adam snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest. "After all these years thinking about her **still** bothers you?"   
  
"Well of course and it was all your fault too, you and your plan. You were not the one that had to distract her by kissing her, and then you miss your chance to get it because of her dog, so I wound up having to get it when she was asleep." Ollivander countered with a disgusted expression on his face. "Those lips of hers... I still get sick thinking of them. A troll has more kissable lips."   
  
"I just asked you to distract her so I could get the wand." Adam reminded him. "You chose the method."   
  
Ollivander rolled his eyes and sighed. "Why are you here, Demetrius?"   
  
"I need a wand," Adam said simply, "and for now please call me Adam."   
  
"And I am Garrick," Ollivander countered and the other immortal nodded in acknowledgement. "So why do you need a wand, now? You have never used one before."   
  
"To blend in." Adam told him simply. "I have acquired an apprentice and it would raise awkward questions if I didn’t have one, especially if I have to go to the Ministry."   
  
Ollivander nodded his head. "So you have taken young Mr. Potter as your student." Ollivander concluded with a slight smirk on his face.   
  
"Yes," Adam didn’t question how he knew after all Ollivander lived in Diagon Alley, a place where students going to a magical school visited at least once a year. Ollivander had undoubtedly discovered Mr. Potter’s condition when the boy came in for a wand holster or some such item. "When did he die? He does not seem to remember."   
  
Ollivander shrugged. "I have not heard of him dying recently however he did live as a Muggle until he received his letter to Hogwarts. Perhaps he died in the Muggle world."   
  
Adam nodded thoughtfully, knowing exactly how dangerous rest of the world was compared to what he remembered of the wizard world. "And you didn’t take him as a student?" Adam asked glancing over at his fellow immortal.   
  
"Aside from the fact that I rarely leave my shop, which is not the proper place to teach a young immortal how to fight or about life itself, a dusty old shop is not the best environment for a growing boy," Ollivander reminded him simply.   
  
Adam nodded in acknowledgement. Octavius was almost as isolated as Darius had been, only instead of just being on holy ground, he was on the magical holy ground. Being a druid did have its advantages, especially if you didn’t travel around much.  
  
"The first time I saw the Potter child," Ollivander’s voice trailed off for a moment as he remembered that day. "The poor child was so lost and confused by everything. He reminded me of some of the children we rescued all those years ago. Poor children that live a life of pain and misery and then they are suddenly given the chance at a better life than a short one."   
  
Ollivander started to gather some wands for Adam to test as he continued detailing his first encounter with young Potter. "The Potter boy had come to get his first wand after receiving his letter to Hogwarts. Interestingly enough," he added thoughtfully, "he was being escorted through Diagon Alley by Rubeus Hagrid, who was at the time Keeper of the Keys for Hogwarts, and not by one of the professors. They are after all the ones who would normally escort the muggle-borns to get their school supplies and Potter to all intents and purposes was little better than a muggle-born."   
Climbing the ladder to fetch some more wands, Ollivander continued his tale. "Rubeus Hagrid is an interesting man, in more ways than one. He is a half giant on his mother side, but he is nothing like the rest of the giants. He is more like a child in an adult’s body and he has a fascination for dangerous creatures."   
  
"How dangerous?" Adam inquired.   
  
"Rumour has it that a few years ago he attempted to raise a dragon in his wooden hut. And since he became the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, he tends to teach about the more dangerous creatures in his classes." Ollivander told him and then returning to discussing Potter. His old friend needed to know what he might be facing. "From what little I have pieced together from various sources, including Hagrid, Dumbledore appears to have some long range plans for your new apprentice. Fortunately I do not believe Dumbledore knows anything about his immortality. If you have indeed taken Mr. Potter as your new apprentice, you will no doubt soon be butting heads with Dumbledore and undoubtedly those who are loyal to him at the castle."   
  
"How loyal?" Adam interrupted.   
  
"Very." Ollivander told him. "From what I have overheard over the years about the Order of the Phoenix they would fight and die for him. And after some bad goings on during his youth, Hagrid secured the position of gamekeeper thanks to Albus Dumbledore, who was a professor at the time. Of course this one action insured that Hagrid was and remains to this day very loyal to Dumbledore. I would dare say that Hagrid is loyal almost to the point of death to him. However no matter how loyal he is, Hagrid does have one weakness, fire whiskey. If you ever need to learn anything about Hogwarts or the people within it, you only need to get Hagrid drunk enough and lend a willing ear and you can learn a great deal about what goes on at Hogwarts. I should warn you though he is a prodigious drinker."   
  
Adam nodded his head absent-mindedly as he wandered around Ollivander’s store looking to see what had changed since his last visit. Suddenly he stopped and turned towards his friend. "Growing? You said he was growing?"   
  
Ollivander chuckled. "I was wondering when you pick up on that fact," his mouth crooked in a slight grin at having gotten one over on his old friend.   
  
"Potter was already an immortal when he came to my shop to get his wand. Imagine my surprise when I saw him last year at the wand weighing before the Tri-wizard Tournament and realized he had grown and is continuing to grow."   
  
"Do you have any idea why he seems to still be aging?" Adam inquired, curious to see what if any ideas one of the few remaining truly old immortals had come up with. "He should have stopped the moment he died the first time."   
  
"Agreed," Ollivander nodded. "I assume that magic took a hand somehow, given that the only time I know of that he came even remotely close to dying before I saw him the first time was when he survived the Killing curse cast on him by Tom Riddle."   
  
"I thought that the Killing curse was cast at him by Lord Flight-from-Death." Adam countered.   
  
"Tom Riddle is his real name." Ollivander told him. "He somehow found the old magic that allowed him to have his alias declared a taboo so that anyone uttering it could be tracked. Most of the magical world is not aware his real name. Nor do they ever tell anyone why his name should not be spoken, so the muggle-born are severely at risk because of it if they ever speak his name."   
  
"That is stupid," Adam shook his head in disbelief. "Are they trying to kill off returning bloodlines?"   
  
"Most witches and wizards in magical Britain never even think about the old squib lines, at least not any more. It is the old ‘out of sight out of mind’ rule." Ollivander told him. "And it was helped along in the middle of the sixteenth century, by a few families who had managed to gain power when heirs were born who were squibs and they did not want to lose power because of someone returning with a better claim to being the Head of a family and taking that family seat and the power it represented away from them. They passed a series of laws that prevented the muggle-born from knowing they could be tested as they had been previously to see if they were part of an old family line."   
  
"Those fools!" Adam growled. "I bet they passed those laws in a closed session so no one would know what they had done."   
  
Ollivander nodded. "They also did their best to insure that those who had been born outside the magical community never were taught the rules or how things worked, which is why most of the old Pure blood families are not fond of the muggle-born since they have no knowledge of and therefore no respect for the old traditions. In most cases it insured the returning bloodline left for another country as soon as they finished their magical training at Hogwarts. These days it has been reduced down to the basics of: I know about the taboo so they must too, since surely **_someone_** at Hogwarts would have told them."   
  
Adam threw up his hands in exasperation, as he figured out what Ollivander hadn’t told him. "And as a result of the sheep mentality they seem to have of not questioning their leaders, no one knows what has been done to cause the severe population decline, especially with all the Dark Lords who have cropped up in the last hundred or so years. And it also insures that the returning bloodlines have almost no chance of survival because they do not know about the taboo."   
  
Ollivander nodded again.   
  
"I am beginning to think that someone cursed magical people with a lack of common sense and it is getting worse with each generation. Makes me glad I never stuck around, or there might not be a magical world any more." Adam made a waving gesture with the first wand that Ollivander handed to him.   
  
####   
  
As Adam drove back to #4 Privet Drive, he could not help thinking about how quickly his life as Adam Pierson, a researcher for the Watchers had been overturned. If someone had told him two days ago that he would _voluntarily_ be re-entering the British Magical community, he would have told them they were insane, but that was before he had encountered Harry Potter, his new apprentice. He shook his head over that thought. It had been so long since he had had an apprentice magical or otherwise.   
  
The other thing that had him alternately smiling and shaking his head in disbelief was MacLeod's reaction to the news that Methos had taken a student, after all of his years of managing to stay out of _‘The Game’_. He had met up with the Highlander earlier today after leaving Diagon Alley to break the news to him that he would be unreachable for a while and had been surprised by his reaction. A man, Methos considered far too trusting when it came to people to the point where the oldest immortal had wondered how the Highlander still managed to keep his head, had been very suspicious at the circumstances that had surrounded Methos meeting his new student… _Not that he would ever be told the **whole** story_ , Methos reflected dryly. MacLeod had even speculated that he and Methos had probably been followed from Paris with the intention of setting one or both of them up.   
  
The only way Methos had gotten him to back off and not demand to help was to explain that his apprentice spent most of his time except for a few months of the year in a very insular society, where he knew how to fit into and MacLeod did not. There was also the fact that the Highlander’s presence in the magical community far from being helpful would raise awkward questions Methos did not want to have to answer. When Mac tried to claim he could fake it after all he had been an actor during the time of Shakespeare after all, Methos asked how he could fake a religion he knew nothing about that wasn’t one of the Christian ones or one of the Eastern metaphysical ones. He told him it was a small community that kept to the old ways from around the time when the druidic faith was the one practiced in England, while trying to incorporate newer ways that could be integrated without losing what they were. He had also had to agree to arrange a regular message drop at Lloyds Bank for MacLeod so that he could maintain contact and be alerted if there were any trouble.   
  
Joe had been a little more pragmatic and easier to handle when he’d told him he was going to have to leave the Watchers for a while. Joe had even wished him luck in dealing with a rebellious teenager, when Adam asked him to tell Watcher HQ that it was because he had acquired custody of a friend’s teenaged son and needed to take care of raising him for the next few years. The only thing he had requested Adam do was keep in touch and bring his ward around to meet him some time. Adam had agreed, though he didn’t tell him it would at least five years or more before he brought Harry around to meet him. The last thing the magical community needed was the Watchers trying to figure out why an immortal was disappearing and they were unable to follow them.   
  
As Methos turned into Privet Drive heading for #4, he sighed. Until the trial was dealt with he was going to have to get use to coming into this clone of Stepford to start teaching Harry what he would need to know about immortality and how to survive. The remainder of today was going to be spent getting to know his apprentice, beyond what those works of fiction at Flourish and Blotts laughingly called the biographies about the _Boy-Who-Lived_ could tell him.   
  
####   
  
Adam had to fight down a laugh at the expression on Petunia Dursley’s face, when she saw who was on the other side of the door. She looked as if she had just stepped in a pile of dung and had no idea of how to get it off her shoes.   
  
"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "Your _kind_ almost got my son killed last night, so you are **_not_** welcome here."   
  
Adam hid a smile. "And here I thought you were brighter than your husband. Your nephew and I **_saved_** your son’s life last night. Then again," he mused, "you do live in this Stepford village clone so it may be affecting your mental processes. As for what I am doing here, I came to see your nephew."   
  
"And why should I let you in to see him?" Petunia asked snootily.   
  
Adam’s face became an expressionless mask as he said in a slightly louder tone of voice that he knew would be overheard by any of the watchers that Dumbledore had around the house and possibly by anyone with sharp hearing who might be passing by. "If you do not allow me to see Harry, I will destroy your family’s reputation in this neighbourhood, starting with the fact that there is **_no_** such place as St Brutus’ and that you started that rumour because your sister's son was invited to attend a prestigious private school in Scotland that a few Royals have even attended and **your** son **_was_** _not_. I might also mention that **you** and your **husband** were so _jealous_ of the fact that your sister and her husband’s were doing so much better in their chosen careers than you were that you made up a story that they were wastrels and drunks who died in a drunk driving accident."   
  
"They wouldn’t believe you no matter what you said." Petunia sniffed, but Adam could tell she did not sound very confident in her denial. It confirmed his belief that this area thrived on gossip and the dirtier the better.   
  
"Are you so sure?" Adam countered. " All I would have to do is show up with an MI6 ID card, which would give me instant credibility with your neighbours as I went about the neighbourhood asking them about why the abuse of my former colleague Lily Potter’s son had never been reported to the police. I would also be sure to mention the fact that your family treats him like a slave. I doubt your reputation would survive very long, especially if I manage to make your neighbours feel very guilty about the very **_obvious_** signs of abuse and neglect that they were willing to overlook because of your lies."   
  
Adam paused then delivered his final bombshell. "And if that is not enough, to convince you to allow me in to see your nephew **any** time I want, then I will point out something both you and your husband have overlooked. A truth you have **ignored** all these years. You _and **your**_ son carry the same genes as you nephew, which means that even though you and your _porker_ of a son cannot do magic... the potential **_is_** there. If a woman with the right genetic make-up marries your son it is entirely possible that you will have grandchildren who **can** do magic. How do you think you husband will react to the thought that his grandchildren could possess the very talent you despise your nephew for?"   
  
"That is a lie!" Petunia hissed like an angry goose. "My Dudley _is **not**_ a freak like **you**."   
  
"I did not say he was." Adam countered. "I said if he married the _right_ woman you would have magical grandchildren. Your son _saw_ and **_felt_** the Dementors last night. Someone with no magic like your husband would not have felt a thing other than a little cold air as the Dementor engulfed them and then proceeded to suck their soul out."   
  
Petunia just stared silently at the strange wizard for several minutes before stepping back and letting him into her home. She did not want this freak in her home but she could tell that unlike the majority of them this one was one of the few who knew how the normal world worked and would use it against her and her family. He would destroy them and she would not allow that to happen.   
  
Adam stopped on the lowest step of the stairway and added. "If you want to look on the bright side, if things with Mr Potter’s trial over on the magical side proceed as I expect, you will not have to see young Mr. Potter ever again."   
  
Petunia smiled at that thought, until the wizard continued. "Of course that will mean you and your family will have to move and fairly quickly too, since Voldemort’s followers will still want to kill you and the wards on this place will go down, and you will no longer be protected… if you ever were."   
  
######   
  
Adam gestured in the direction of the locks on the door that went up one side of the door that led to Potter's prison otherwise known as his bedroom and they all clicked open. He added another, permanent spell to the locks so the Dursleys could not lock the boy in ever again. The last thing any immortal needed was to explain to the authorities why they survived the destruction of a house without a scratch or a burn anywhere on them.   
  
Even knowing that Harry had felt his presence, Adam still knocked politely on his door before opening it and saying, "Good afternoon Harry, may I come in?"   
  
When there was no disagreement, Adam pushed the door open and was confronted by a young man pacing back and forth. From Harry’s appearance, he was willing to guess the boy was feeling frustrated about _something_. His hair was even messier than it had been the night before and he could tell the boy didn’t even seem to be aware of his presence. That was going to have to change and quickly. Potter needed to learn to recognize what the presence of an immortal meant so that it was ingrained within him to go on alert at the feeling. If he had been a hunter, then Potter could have lost his head due to his distraction.   
  
_Time for the first lesson then_ , Adam concluded, moving swiftly once the boy had passed him, Adam struck, taking the boy down to the ground in a manner he knew would startle him but not cause any harm.   
  
Harry looked up somewhat in surprise to see the angry face of Adam, the man who had last night said he would be his teacher staring down at him and felt Adam’s hand gripping his throat tightly.   
  
"This is your first lesson in being an immortal, Potter," Adam growled in a low voice. "I **_know_** you felt me coming. From now on, **whenever** you experience that feeling again, you need to go on alert and start looking around to see who it is. There are those immortals out there who would cheerfully **_kill_** you even though the power of your quickening would not mean much to them simply so they could take _you_ out of ‘The Game’. Please remember that, because next time you forget, I will be teaching the lesson with the blade of my sword."   
  
"And what was I supposed to do?" Harry demanded from his position on the floor. "I could not have fought another immortal, and if I had tried to use magic to deal with them, I would be in even more trouble with the Ministry than I already am."   
  
"All you need to learn right now Harry is to be alert and figure out ways to escape until you are trained." Adam countered removing his hand and helping the boy up. "One of the things I always try and teach my apprentices is: Live. Grow stronger. Fight another day."   
  
Harry snorted, "I have not had a chance to **_live_** yet. All I have ever done is survive whatever has been thrown at me."   
  
"Well, now you are no longer alone. I will be here to teach you what you need to know to survive ‘The Game’ and to survive in the magical world." Adam nodded, understanding why Harry was not yet ready to appreciate his main philosophy of life. Aside from the fact that he was fairly sure the boy had not had the best of lives so far, it took a few decades if not centuries to understand that if you were just surviving you were not really living. Even he forgot it occasionally. It had taken MacLeod’s appearance in his life a few years ago to remind him of that fact.   
  
Harry snorted once again as Adam released him and allowed him to get up off the floor. "To the magical world I am the bloody boy-who-lived, hero one moment and either lying attention seeking brat or an up and coming Dark Lord the next. And given that someone in the magical world seems to enjoy manipulating my life, up to and including how it should be lived and where, I seriously doubt that the person or people doing it will let you step in and change any of their plans unless of course Fudge has his way and I do get expelled, then they no longer have any say over me."   
  
Waving his hand around the room, Harry told him. "I once told one of my primary school teachers about how the Dursleys treated me when he noticed I never seem to have anything to eat… unlike Dudley. He promised he would help, but a couple days later he did not even remember we had spoken about it. I thought he had lied to me but I know now that someone made him forget." Harry walked over to his bed and sat down. "I was badly punished for telling him and after that I never told another living soul cause the results just were not worth it. Thanks to the magical world I have learned my life is an illusion, just an elaborate play and I don’t even know my lines or what is expected of me because everything is being controlled by the man behind the curtain."   
  
"Dumbledore." Adam said with certainty. "He is the man behind the curtain. Whatever his plans for you they will not succeed."   
  
"I kind of thought he might be," Harry interrupted. "I finally figured out where I had heard that voice before, the one that spoke to Aunt Petunia on that Howler last night, and it was his. I just cannot figure out what he hopes to gain. And no one would believe me right now with the possible exception of Fudge and his lackeys in the Ministry if I told them because most in magical Britain think he is the greatest wizard since Merlin himself."   
  
Adam had to fight back a snort at that. "Well, I can promise you that Dumbledore is going to have a lot of revision to do to his plans now that I am involved, because I know more about magical law than Dumbledore or anyone at the Ministry does and there are some very very old laws on the books that they have most likely forgotten about that we can use to stop them. And if it becomes necessary we will remove you completely from Britain."   
  
Harry just shrugged, but Adam didn’t take his lack of faith as a criticism. The boy from all he had been able to find out from Ollivander and a few other discreet sources had had a hard life and his ability to trust was badly damaged. It would take time to gain it but Adam could tell it would be worth it.   
  
"We will worry about how to handle Dumbledore another time right now I need to give you a couple of things and then we need to talk about what I learned from the Goblins thanks to that letter you gave me." Adam told him pulling a small wooden box about the size of a deck of cards out of a small book bag he had set on the floor near the door.   
  
Looking the box with its elaborate celtic designs over, Harry asked, "What is this?"   
  
"Mailbox." Adam told him. "You and I needed a confidential way to communicate. You put a note in there and it will instantly be sent to the one I have and if I need to send you a message I do the same."   
  
"How will I know if you’ve sent me a message?"   
  
"Once it is keyed to you, no one else will be able to open it and if you tap the upper right corner of the box it will change into a signet style ring that you can wear." Adam told him. "The ring will grow slightly warm when a message has been received to it to alert you. You can remove the ring at any time to get he message. The nice thing about this box is it will work through _any_ wards."   
  
Harry nodded his understanding. Even though he loved Hedwig dearly, it was nice to know he would have a way to reach someone right away if he needed to and get an untraceable reply back.   
  
"And here is the other thing, I need to give you." Adam made a brushing gesture down his left leg and a sword and scabbard appeared.   
  
"A sword?" Harry stared at the sword and scabbard that Adam had just unbelted from his waist.   
  
"Specifically a short sword. It was also called an arming sword. They were very popular in Britain in the Middle Ages." Adam told him handing it over hilt first. "As your teacher, I am responsible for providing the first sword you will learn with, and given your height and slender build I think this is the best choice for now. I will be teaching you to use others as you become accustomed to this one, but for now make sure that stays with you. You can keep it in your school trunk, until I can teach you the proper spells to conceal or shrink it so that you can always have it with you."   
  
#####   
  
Harry lay on his bed in the room he was sharing with Ron unable to sleep, partly because of Ron's snoring and partly because he was nervous about the hearing at the Ministry tomorrow. He had been at Grimmauld Place for the past six days and was missing the time he had spent with Adam, even if it had had to be spent at the Dursleys. To tell the truth, he was also a little bored. While he knew it would be a long time before he could be considered even close to being Adam’s equal, the four days he had gotten to spend with Adam had been some of the best he had ever experienced so far. The only thing that he could think of to compare to it was the time he had gotten to spend by himself in Diagon Alley the summer before his third year at Hogwarts.   
  
Resigning himself to the fact he was not going to be getting to sleep any time soon, Harry sighed and let his mind wander back over the events of the last tens days since the Dementors apparent attack in Little Whinging.   
  
It was surprising to realise that he was one of a very small group of people, one of the rarest of the rare… am immortal wizard and that his teacher was… _King Arthur’s **wizard**_. Hermione would be so jealous if she knew that he was going to be learning from the person who was part of non-magical legends as well and magical and was considered an even greater wizard than Dumbledore. The fact that he was an immortal had helped explain why he had survived the Killing curse that Voldemort had thrown at him when no one else ever had. Adam had admitted he was a little baffled though about why Harry was apparently still going through the normal process of growing up, because he should have stopped aging and growing the moment he became immortal. The only thing the older wizard could come up with was that someone or something magical had felt compelled to interfere. But if that were the case then why had they done it? Was there something important that needed to happen and was Harry the only one who could bring it about? Adam had told him just in case that was the reason they would need to make a visit the Hall of Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries once the hearing was over to see if there were any forewarning there of what it was he needed to do.   
  
While the knowledge that as an immortal meant that Harry had a much better chance of surviving whatever life-threatening situation always seemed to happen around him since he was now nearly impossible to kill, it was also somewhat disheartening to realise that unless someone got very very lucky with a diffindo curse or took his head with a sword he would outlive everyone he knew. Even though he was currently very angry with his friends for not writing him as they promised, Harry was not sure he wanted to outlive everyone he knew but Adam had told him while giving him what he called a crash course in Immortality 101, like any other human being, the survival instinct was very strong in immortals, so unless he was really determined to die, the instinct to survive would always win out over the wish to die.  
  
The one thing that bothered him **_a lot_** was the fact that unlike what everyone believed and had told him he was not Lily and James Potter’s natural born son. Harry had tried to dispute that claim by pointing out that everyone said he looked like James Potter with Lily Potter’s eyes. Adam had countered that by saying that they had probably used a blood adoption potion to make him their heir because it made the child it was used on resemble their adoptive parents a lot more than they normally would.   
  
His time at Grimmauld Place over the past six days had been slightly frustrating between his friends treating him as if he did not have a right to be angry with them for keeping secrets from him and the adults treating him as if he were a little child, especially Mrs. Weasley. Even though this house was not her home, Mrs. Weasley ran things like it was and treated everyone including Sirius as if they were children and not to be trusted to make their own decisions. When she got going like she had with the twins a few days ago the only one who could out screech her was the painting of Sirius’ mother.   
  
Harry also found the way that Mrs. Weasley treated him to be truly annoying. While he had been through so much between the Dursleys and the last four years at Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley still insisted on treating him as if he were a small child who had no idea what he was doing, unlike Adam who treated him like he someone who could make the right decisions on his own, and would only provide his input if asked… unless it involved teaching Harry how to survive as an immortal. On that he expected Harry’s immediate obedience to his orders and Harry had learned it was best to comply. Adam had payback down to an art form that would make the twins and Snape jealous.   
  
While he liked spending time with Sirius who would tell him stories of his father and their time together with Remus at Hogwarts, life at Grimmauld Place with them was far from ideal. Sirius had slipped at least twice and called him James during one of his tales about their time at school. He could not help wondering if when Sirius called him by his adoptive father’s name if he was remembering James and maybe even seeing him or if was he so lost in his memories that he forgot he was talking to Harry and not his father. Harry also found himself feeling a little uncomfortable in Sirius and Remus’ presence because he did not know how to tell them that despite what everyone thought the Potters were not his birth parents instead they were his _adoptive_ parents. He did not know how either man would take the news. He was also a little afraid that they would treat him differently and he did not want to lose the only link to the people who had taken him into their lives and given him their name.  
  
Turning his thoughts away from the currently insoluble problem of what to tell Remus and Sirius about his real relationship to the Potters, Harry thought about what the possible results of his hearing might be tomorrow. He had to admit that it was real handy to have someone on your side that had been around for at least a thousand years, when you needed to go to court against a corrupt Ministry. Harry personally doubted that there would be much that Fudge could do to get him expelled as long as he had Adam on his side, though Adam had pointed out that how they would have to handle things would depend entirely on what Fudge’s opening move was.  
  
If Harry was seen by a simple three member panel in the Dept of Magical Education then it would simply be a matter of citing the emergency condition that had been written into the under-aged sorcery law when it had first been written that allowed a witch or wizard who was a minor to defend themselves against a magical threat and being willing to swear to the truth of that on his magic if need be. Though Adam doubted he would have to do that given he could state he had been there at the time and could confirm the presence of the Dementors.   
  
If however the panel consisted of more than three people no matter where it was held, then it would be a trial. In that case they had an even better out, because of laws that were still on the books and it would allow them to use the loophole the most recent Triwizard tournament and magical Britain’s wilful ignorance had given them.   
  
As he thought about the upcoming hearing, Harry could not help wondering yet again if fighting to stay in Hogwarts was even worth it, at this point, given that most of magical Britain seemed to think he was a liar. From what Adam had told him about what was being printed in the Prophet, he had no doubt it would take Voldemort getting in the Ministry's face at this point before anyone would change their minds about what he had been saying and by then it would most likely be too late. Once the truth came out they would no doubt expect him to forget all the insults they had heaped upon him and save them once more from the Dark Lord who had them all pissing in their pants every time they thought about him. He also had no doubt that Dumbledore would be standing off to one side of the pack urging him to be the better man and forgive them.   
  
Going over how Dumbledore had treated him the last few days in his mind, Harry found himself agreeing with what Adam had said a little over a week ago. Dumbledore was indeed the wizard behind the curtain and he was trying to control Harry somehow. Right now the big problem was, would he and Adam be able to figure out what the wily old wizard was up to before he was left with no option but doing what the old man wanted.  
  
#####   
  
Entering the dark drafty dungeon that his hearing had been suddenly moved to, Harry made note of the shadowy figures seated on the high benches at the far end of the room. There was barely enough torchlight to illuminate the shadowy shapes of the benches, tables and people in the room and was obviously intended to inspire fear or worry in guilty parties and to have even those who were not guilty of any known crimes rethinking their lives. He recognised this room from Dumbledore’s Pensieve. He had seen the Lestranges and Crouch Jr. sentenced in this very room. This room and the fact that his hearing had been changed to it told Harry one other thing. Fudge intended this to be a trial and not a simple hearing.   
  
Harry didn’t know if Adam had gotten the message about the change in the time of the hearing that he had sent once Mr. Weasley had left him at the doors to the courtroom, but either way today would determine how the rest of his life would be lived. While Harry still was not sure he wanted to return to Hogwarts, he also did not want to give Fudge the satisfaction of winning so that the Minister could spin things to make it seem as though Harry thought he was above respecting the laws of magical Britain. The problem was that if Adam was not in the Ministry then there was no way he was going he was going to make it to Courtroom 10 before this travesty of a trial concluded, which would mean that that smug arrogant bastard of a Minister would get his way and Harry would be out of Hogwarts on Fudge’s terms and not his own.   
  
No matter what the result of this trial was, Harry at least knew one fact for certain Adam would be part of his life until he was able to survive on his own as an immortal. It was a nice thought, that he now had a family of sorts, even if he had to wait almost fourteen years to get his wish granted. And as an added bonus Adam had told him would be able to teach Harry magic under an apprenticeship contract, even if his wand had been snapped by the Ministry. Adam had told him that because he had managed to conjure a Patronus when he was thirteen that he had enough magical power to be able to do wandless magic at some point and that he would teach how to use foci other than wands. Adam had had quite a smug look on his face when he pointed out how foolish the Ministry had been to overlook someone using other items to focus their magic. He said it was further proof of how inbred and insular they were becoming since they couldn’t conceive of anything else being used to direct or hold spells.  
  
The three days he had been able to spend with Adam, prior to being moved to Grimmauld Place by Moody, Remus and company, had been very instructive. He had seen and learned more in those three days than he had learned during his entire time with the Dursleys and about how the magical world worked. Adam treated him as if he were while not an adult, capable of making his own decisions. He explained things to Harry when he wanted him to do something instead of telling him he had to do something without telling him why. He had even promised Harry that as long as he was Adam’s student and there was time for explanations he would always try to tell him why something needed to be done, but that if that was not possible he expected Harry to do what he asked and wait for answers later.   
  
Adam’s lessons were the reason he had not been surprised by the change in the time of the trial, or the lack in notification about the change. His teacher had been fairly certain that Fudge was going to do something to insure that Harry was expelled and had no credibility. The only thing that Adam could not predict is just what steps the Minister might try to take to insure that Harry had no chance to defend himself. The only reason he had gotten to the Ministry in time to find out about the change in time and to have a chance of making it to this farce of a trial was because Mr Weasley had wanted to show him around the Ministry before taking him to the hearing.  
  
"You are late." A cold male vice announced as Harry walked down the aisle between the rows of empty benches.   
  
"Sorry about that," Harry apologised, though he did not feel very sorry. It was not his fault he was late. It was Fudge’s or one of his lackeys. "I wasn’t told the time had been changed."   
  
"That is not the fault of the Wizengamot. We sent the owl this morning. Take your seat." The man with the cold voice gestured to the chair standing in a pool of light.   
  
While it was clear to Harry from Fudge’s expression that his arrival had thrown his plans off a little by managing to make it to the hearing even though there was no way he could have received the notice indicating the change of time, Harry could also see that the Minister did not look too flustered by this disruption of his plans. The Minister apparently did not expect Harry to be able to defend himself from whatever charges he was about to level given he only had a fourth year education from Hogwarts and was not supposed to have any knowledge of how the government worked… yet. With Harry officially disgraced by being expelled then the Minister could be certain that his claims that Voldemort was back would be ignored. Harry had seen how little regard the Wizarding world had for those who had been expelled from school and how little opportunities they had. He had no doubt that if Hagrid had been able to complete his education, he might have gone on to get his Mastery in handling dangerous creatures, which would have opened all kinds of doors for the gentle half giant.   
  
Harry took a look at the seat and gulped as if in fear when he saw the chains covering the arms of it. He’d seen those chains wrap around Barty Crouch’s arms binding the Death Eater in place. "Thanks, but I will stand."   
  
"Sit down!" a grating female voice snapped.   
  
"Not in that chair." Harry told the group in front of him. Given that right now he was going to have to defend himself, Harry had no doubt he was going to be expelled by the end of all this but if he was going to be then he was going to go with dignity.   
  
"Let’s just get on with it," the forbidding looking grey haired woman wearing a monocle sitting on Fudge’s left decided. "He is not being tried for a capitol crime therefore he can stand if he wishes."   
  
"Very well," Fudge decided not to press the point since at the end of the day the boy would’ve been reduced to a non-entity as far as the magical world was concerned and no one would believe his claims that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back, which was the ultimate goal. "The accused **_finally_** being present I believe we are ready to proceed. Do all agree?"   
  
There was an eager chorus of "Yes’s" and "Ayes" from the fifty or so people ranged along the high bench.   
  
And Harry heard a resounding, "Yes, sir." from the bench in front and recognised the voice as Ron’s brother Percy   
  
"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," Fudge began and then stopped as with the doors at the back of the room opened with a loud groan once more.   
  
As a slender man with messy brown hair walked into the pool of light near the chain wrapped chair, Fudge demanded, "Who are you and how did you get in here. This is a **closed** hearing."   
  
"I am Mr. Potter’s solicitor Adam Bronson." The man announced calmly. "It is fortunate that I was in the Ministry on other business when I heard about the change in time and location of the hearing, otherwise the Wizengamot would have been in violation of its own laws and statues for failing to notify all participants of the hearing in a timely fashion."   
  
"Hem hem," the woman with the grating voice wearing pink robes and a ribbon in her hair interrupted. "They were notified in a timely fashion."   
  
"And you are?" Adam asked.   
  
"Dolores Umbridge, _Senior_ Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic." She announced. "I know those owls were sent out in plenty of time to notify participants of the change in time."   
  
"And are you willing to swear an oath on your magic to that?" Adam asked, bringing a slight grin to Harry’s face as the tables were being turned on one of Fudge’s lackeys.  
  
"Now see here, Mr. Bronson," Fudge interrupted, "You have no call to impugn the honour of this court."   
  
"Actually yes I do, because I fire called my office when I heard about the change in time and as I was speaking with them the letter informing Mr. Potter of the change in time and location for the hearing arrived. By my calculations it was sent out at precisely the same moment Mr. Potter entered the Ministry with his companion Mr. Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department, that is hardly adequate time, given that if he had been with me waiting for the original hearing time of ten am you would have railroaded a guilty verdict through without him being able to mount a defence. I would hate to think this _august_ body was being used to destroy the life of a young wizard for political gain."   
  
Amelia Bones had noticed the look of surprise and then relief on Potter’s face when the man had appeared and announced who he was and why he was there. She hadn’t heard from Susan that Potter had a solicitor, so she asked, "Mr. Potter, is Mr. Bronson indeed your solicitor?"   
  
"Yes, ma’am," Harry affirmed.   
  
"Mr. Bronson, I will look into the matter of the notices being sent out." Madame Bones assured the solicitor after giving Dolores Umbridge a dry look. "It is not the intention of the Wizengamot to in any way deny a citizen of Magical Britain a **_fair_** hearing. Now since Mr. Potter is represented by council shall we proceed?"   
  
"Yes, yes," Fudge stammered and took up where he left off with the reading into the record of the charges against Potter and he was once more interrupted this time by the arrival of Albus Dumbledore claiming to be a witness for the defence.   
  
"Actually," Mr. Bronson spoke up. "The Headmaster of Mr. Potter’s school was not present at the alleged instance of under-aged magic and therefore he can not be a witness to it."   
  
The twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes dimmed slightly. "I misspoke, I brought a witness to the incident."   
  
"Are you referring perhaps to the Squib, you have living in the area, Arabella Figg?" Bronson asked. "While she could testify to some extent, it is a well known fact that the Wizengamot will likely discount her testimony as they do not view Squibs as magical citizens even though they can if they wish enter places like Diagon Alley." That claim set the members of the Wizengamot members to muttering angrily as the solicitor continued. "Where as I, who was speaking with Mr. Potter in the park in Little Whinging regarding to certain legal matters on August second, am a full fledged wizard and did indeed see witness the event."   
  
Dumbledore looked over at Arabella who confirmed with a nod that this was indeed the man who had been present that evening and had helped Harry get his cousin back home and then later attacked Fletcher. Dumbledore took a better look at the man. Something about him was familiar. “Have we met before? You look very familiar.”  
  
“No,” Adam lied. “You may have met my father, Robert Bronson. I have been told I look a lot like him.”  
  
"Can we get on with this hearing?" Fudge demanded, missing the sudden paling of Dumbledore’s face in the torchlight as he heard the name of the man’s father, though Adam smirked slightly as he caught sight of it though.   
  
"Dumbledore, we will give consideration to your witness if needed when the time comes.” Fudge told the Headmaster and then returned to the reading of the charges. “The charges against the accused are as follows: that he did knowingly, and with full knowledge of the illegality of his actions, given he had previously received a warning for the use of under-aged magic outside of school, cast the Patronus charm in an area inhabited by Muggles and that he further did it in front of a Muggle on August second at twenty-three minutes past nine in the evening. A clear and direct violation under paragraph C of the decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery Act of 1875 as well as in violation of section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards Statute of Secrecy."   
  
"I dispute the charges." Bronson spoke up.   
  
"On what grounds?" Umbridge demanded to know. "The monitoring spell on Mr. Potter’s wand quite clearly reported to the office that monitors underage sorcery that the spell was cast. You can not dispute public record."   
  
"I do not dispute that the spell was cast." Bronson agreed. "As I said I was there when the incident with the Dementors happened. Mr. Potter did indeed cast one of the spells that produced a Corporeal Patronus…"  
  
Madame Bones’ voice cut across what Bronson was saying. "Mr. Potter you produced a fully corporeal Patronus?"   
  
"A what?" Harry didn’t understand what she was talking about.   
  
"Your Patronus was fully formed, not just vapour or a wispy shape?" Madame Bones clarified her question.   
  
"Yes ma’am, it was a fully formed stag, just as it has always been." Harry was puzzled by why she seemed so interested.   
  
"Always been?" The monocle almost dropped as the grey haired woman’s eyes widened. "You’ve produced a Patronus before?"   
  
"Yes, ma’am,” Harry confirmed and then added, “I produced my first one when I was thirteen."   
  
"Who taught you?" Madame Bones wanted to know.   
  
"Professor Lupin did during my third year." Harry told her. "I needed to be able to defend myself against the Dementors that were around the school since they seemed to be very interested in me, so he taught me."   
  
"Impressive," Madame Bones complimented him. "A difficult spell to do as an adult… to be able to do it at thirteen."   
  
"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Fudge demanded. "Mr. Bronson, given that the accused has just admitted to casting the spell, why are you disputing the charges?"   
  
"The charge is for under-aged sorcery and my client is not under-aged." Adam told them.   
  
"Mr. Potter, you are fifteen are you not?" Fudge asked him.   
  
"Yes sir," Harry answered calmly, following Adam’s plan.   
  
"He is under-aged, Mr. Bronson, therefore the charge stands." Fudge announced with a smile on his face.   
  
"Mr. Potter’s physical age is not in question." Bronson countered just as firmly. "But he is still not under-aged in the eyes of the law, given that Ministry Officials Bartimus Crouch Senior and Ludo Bagman, the heads of the three Magical schools in Europe and this august body have all declared him to be **_of age_**. By existing laws of magical Britain that were put in place in case the heir of one of the Ancient and Noble Houses, who happens to be the only remaining member of the family as Mr. Potter is, can take over the duties of Head of House if three legally recognized governmental bodies state that he is of age."   
  
"No, the Ministry most definitely has not!” Delores Umbridge protested. “  
  
"Actually Madam, you have." Bronson smiled a shark-like smile. "It is a matter of public record that this past year Mr. Potter had to compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament, or more accurately it could be stated he was **_forced_** to compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament. According to the terms of the contract which I have looked at were several options that could have been used to disallow Mr. Potter’s entry into the Tri-Wizard tournament, but none of them were used by either the Ministry Officials Bartimus Crouch and Ludo Bagman who were present at the drawing or by the three of the Heads of the magical schools in Europe, Headmasters Dumbledore and Karkaroff and Headmistress Maxime.”  
  
“Please explain what you are talking about, Mr. Bronson.” Augusta Longbottom requested before Umbridge could speak up again.  
  
Adam nodded his head slightly in her direction in thanks for her making that request. “The first option that they ignored was the fact for the first time in its history the Tri-Wizard tournament had a binding magical contract which clearly stated that the **all** participants **must be _of age_**. Mr. Potter most definitely was not _of age_ as defined by requirements of the Ministry of Magic. He had neither passed his OWLs nor was he seventeen years of age. Because of the requirements of the contract the Ministry officials could have simply disallowed his entry given he was legally under-aged as defined by the magical laws of Britain and that would have allowed Mr. Potter to keep his magic. Neither of the Ministry representatives used this condition to prohibit Mr. Potter’s inclusion in the contest, therefore they, as legal representatives of the Ministry, the governing body for all citizen’s of magical Britain, have declared him to be of age, since that was a requirement of the contract.”  
  
“The next option was one that was not used by the three heads of the magical schools officially competing in the competition: Headmasters Dumbledore and Karkaroff and Headmistress Maxime. Given that Goblet **had** to select one student for each school that means that Mr. Potter’s name was entered under the name of a fourth school which was not party to either the terms that bound the Goblet or the contract signed by the three participating schools, they could have denied his inclusion on those grounds or if they were worried about Mr. Potter losing his magic, they could have held three very simple contests to satisfy the contract and then allowed the ones whose names were actually drawn for those schools that were officially a part of the contract to participate in the real contest. While it is true Headmistress Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff did originally protest his inclusion, they did not use either of the conditions they could have to deny Mr. Potter the right to participate. Headmaster Dumbledore did not even protest at all. Therefore all three of the Heads of the magical schools in Europe that are part of the educational arm of their respective magical governments given they are responsible for administering the OWLs that will determine a child is old enough to quit school if they wish to afterwards, have declared Mr. Potter to be of age since they allowed him to participate.”  
  
Adam paused for a moment, looking up and down the three rows of witches and wizards garbed in purple robes. “And last but not least we come to this hearing today. Mr. Potter is being tried in front of the **_entire_** Wizengamot which can only be done for magical citizens who are **_of age_**. Based on the oldest laws in magical Britain it is against the law to try a minor in front of the entire Wizengamot. The Wizengamot is clearly only to sit in judgement of adult crimes. If the person is not of age and it is determined that the crime they have committed is severe enough to require their crime be judged by adult standards then they are immediately declared of age the moment that the Wizengamot sits in judgement of them. If the Wizengamot tries to sit in judgement of a crime that is considered a minor offence, then those who do sit in judgement will **lose** their magic. So either Mr. Potter **is** of age, or if you wish to contend that it was not your intention to declare him of age, then this trial must end unless you all wish to lose your magic."   
  
"Either way," A blonde woman sitting a few seats to the right of Umbridge pointed out, "he did knowingly practice sorcery in front of a muggle when he cast that patronus spell. If he is to be tried for violating the Secrecy statute as an adult, the penalty is far more severe."   
  
Bronson’s smile got even wider, showing more teeth. "Actually that muggle is exempt from the Secrecy statutes because he is Mr. Potter’s cousin, Dudley Dursley. Mr. Potter has resided in their home since he was taken there by Albus Dumbledore after his parent’s deaths in nineteen eighty-one. By the laws of the International Wizarding Confederation, non-magical relations are the only muggles magic may be practiced in front of. Now is this trial going to continue? Because I should tell you that if one more question is asked in this venue it will constitute you trying an adult wizard for a crime they can not be guilty of… under-aged magic."   
  
Harry was surprised when they quickly declared him not guilty and Adam’s smile got even bigger.   
  
Fudge picked up the gavel intending to close the hearing but Adam spoke up before he could. “There is one more matter that needs to handled before this hearing adjourned.”  
  
“And just what is that, Mr. Bronson?” Fudge demanded testily.  
  
“The rescinding of the Kiss on Sight order for one Sirius Orion Black, given there is no trial record anywhere in the Ministry with proof of his guilt.” Adam told them. “That is why I was here, because Lord Potter is the named heir for Sirius Black. However before the Goblins would allow him to be declared the Head of House Black based on Mr. Black’s will and assume the position of Regent for the Ancient and Noble House of Black, they wanted to see the proof of Mr. Black’s guilt. There is no record of Mr. Black’s trial in the Hall of Records and not even a note indicating the Dept of Mysteries had the records sealed. Dementors are Class 1 Dark creatures so by international magical law unless there is incontrovertible proof of guilt, no Witch or Wizard, may be Kissed by one. The punishment for violating this law is quite severe for those violating it.”  
  
“He was found guilty,” Fudge insisted. “There is no need to rescind the order.”  
  
“And your staff can produce the records that you Minister would be willing to swear on your life and your magic were made at the time of Mr. Black’s imprisonment fourteen years ago?” Adam inquired with a raised eyebrow. “Because if you can produce a copy of those records that you are willing to swear such an oath to, I need a copy so that the current leadership of House Black can be sorted out.”  
  
“I will have my people make a search for the records and we will reconvene on a later date if need be to discuss the matter.” Fudge told him.  
  
“I do not think that would be a good idea, Minister. Any delay on your part could prove very costly if Mr. Black is found and Kissed before the matter is resolved.” Adam disagreed. “You do know what the penalty is if an innocent person has been found to be Kissed on the government’s orders do you not? In case you do not, the penalty is that every member of the government who authorized this death will be subject to being Kissed and all their worldly goods would go to the heirs of the innocent victim. That fate would include you, Minister, since it is your signature on the order.”  
  
It didn’t require much deliberation on the part of the Wizengamot members to decide to rescind the ‘Kiss on Sight’ order for Sirius Black and change it to a ‘Take Alive’ order, especially after no one could find the records of the trial.  
  
Harry had a big grin on his face as he heard the results of Adam’s final shot at Fudge and realized he had done what Dumbledore had either refused to do or been unable to do. Sirius was finally going to have a chance to get the trial he had been denied.  
  
As Dumbledore approached them intending to separate Harry from this man, before he could undo any more of his plans he overheard Harry tell Bronson, “Thanks, Adam, for doing what even Dumbledore has not been able to do.”  
  
“He should have been able to.” Was all Adam Bronson said.  
  
“Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore interrupted. “I have made arrangements for someone to escort you home.”  
  
“That will not be necessary, Headmaster,” Bronson told him. “Mr Potter is not currently in school so he is not your responsibility and he and I have matters to take care of at Gringotts. I will insure that Mr. Potter gets safely home… If you can call living at the Dursleys being safe.”

 

 

 

 


	4. I Should Have Known You Would Be Involved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Trial Business in the Ministry with Harry learning a few things that Dumbledore didn't want him to know... yet

_**I Should Have Known You Would Be Involved** _

 

Adam quickly steered Harry out the double doors that led to Courtroom 10, before Dumbledore could recover from his rather abrupt dismissal of the man’s desire to take control of Harry. Once they were clear of the doors, Adam pulled the younger wizard back against the wall and place a hand on his shoulder.

Harry looked up at him questioningly, but before he could ask what was going on, Adam put his finger to his lips, instructing him to be silent.

Dumbledore came out a moment later, his head turning this way and that, clearly looking for them. Harry was surprised when the Headmaster’s eyes slid right over them as if they were not there. Then the Headmaster strode off toward the elevators a frustrated expression on his face.

“What did you do to keep him from seeing us?” Harry asked in a low voice. “I did not think there was any form of invisibility that could hide someone from him. He was even able to find me when I was under my Father’s invisibility cloak.”

“I cloaked us from his low level Mage sight, with a type of veil that left no trace for him to see.” Adam replied a smug look on his face. "Or to paraphrase a very wise man, as far as he was concerned, _We were not the droids he was looking for._ "

“Huh?” Harry looked at him quizzically.

“I thought you were familiar with Star Wars given you had previously mentioned Vader and the Emperor.” Adam commented.

“I know about them,” Harry admitted. “I never saw the first two movies at all and I only heard bits and pieces of the third, the one with Vader and the Emperor from my cupboard when Dudley watched it on the telly. My Aunt and Uncle would not let him watch it at first but gave in after he pitched a fit about it.”

“Ah yes, he is definitely one who went to the Dark side because they had cookies,” Adam commented remembering a t-shirt he had once seen. He was pleased that he would be the one who would get to introduce Harry to the wonders of George Lucas’ creation. “It has been a while since I inducted a new member into the faith. When we have the time, I am going to introduce you to a glorious new world.”

As Harry watched Adam seemed to get a faraway expression on his face then resigned himself to the fact that the elderly all went off their rocker sooner or later. Dumbledore was just the most obvious example he knew of. Given Adam was over a thousand years old, he probably just hid his insanity better. “You do realize that he will find us once we get to Gringotts.”

“He or his agent would be able to _**if**_ we were going there right now,” Adam agreed, “but we have a slight detour to make before going there. We need to stop by the Hall of Prophecies while we are in the Ministry and the Hall is in the Department of Mysteries.”

As he followed Adam down a side hall Harry asked. “What are we going to do there?”

“Check and see if there are any prophecies that have been recorded concerning you.” Adam told him. “Given Dumbledore’s obsessive interest in you and his need to control just about every aspect of your life, I think he is trying to mould you into someone who can fulfil a specific prophecy. The only way to find out for sure is to visit the Hall of Prophecies.”

As they got closer to the Department of Mysteries, Adam pulled two small items from his pocket and enlarged them. Handing one of the enlarged cloaks to Harry, he instructed him, “Put this on and be sure to pull the hood up. We do not need Dumbledore or anyone else knowing you have been to the Hall.”

“Will they let us in?” Harry wondered.

“They will.” Adam was certain of it.

####

Adrian Holmes sighed as he patrolled the halls belonging to the Department of Mysteries. While it was job assigned to all members of the department on a rotating basis, it was definitely one of the most boring aspects of being an Unspeakable. The Department of Mysteries was largely left alone by the rest of the Ministry and that was the way the Unspeakables liked it. If a report needed to be delivered to the DMLE or the Minister’s office about something they had inquired about, it was usually the Unspeakables sending one of their lower level agents up into the higher levels of the Ministry. They were also the ones who would escort someone to the Hall of Prophecies if a prophecy appeared that concerned that individual.

The rest of the Ministry largely left the Dept of Mysteries alone preferring not to come down here unless they had no choice, though these days Fudge seemed to be trying to assert control he did not have over their department. Not that he would succeed, Adrian reflected, given that their department was completely autonomous and had been since Merlin had set it up, but that did not stop the Minister from trying.

Adrian reflected they were lucky Fudge did not know everything the Department of Mysteries was responsible for. Their sacred charge from their founding by Merlin was to be the guardians of magic, and their original founders were chosen from those Knights of the Round Table who had been magical. Down here they kept a guard on dangerous magical items and researched dangerous magicks, trying to find ways to safely deal with them. Their job also was to keep the magical world hidden and to insure its survival by whatever means necessary, up to and including removing the magical government in residence. If the Minister knew that they would remove him and all the other members of the magical government without a second thought if they proved to be a threat to magical Britain’s safety, he would be trying to destroy them as surely as he was trying to destroy the Potter boy.

His job at least today was to insure that no one got beyond what the other Ministry employees usually saw when they came into the Department through the Wheel Room. Most witches and wizards thought that was all there was to the Department of Mysteries, but there were many more levels. 

The rooms and offices the other Ministry employees usually saw once they passed through the Wheel room besides the Hall of Prophecies were full of low level agents like himself doing filing and basic research. Usually the only people allowed beyond the levels accessible via the Wheel room were the higher level Unspeakables and those in the company of a higher level Unspeakable. The only other wizards allowed were those doing research for their Masteries who needed access to things the Department of Mysteries had. And they were only given a restricted access badge to the specific areas needed for their research via the Wheel room after their project was evaluated for use and swearing a magically binding oath not to reveal what they had seen if it had no bearing on their project. The oath was one that would kill them if they ever broke it. 

The reason for the stringent restrictions and the patrols was because of an incident that had happened in 1907. A clerk named Fredrick Krueger who worked in the Department of International Magical Co-Operation had apparently decided he wanted to take over Britain and had found a ritual that would let him open the door to Cthulhu’s realm hidden on the fifth level and let the demon loose. It had shocked just about every Unspeakable at the time that Krueger a _**Hufflepuff**_ would become a Dark Lord. 

Krueger had kidnapped a seventeen year old muggle Yank named Lovecraft who had been visiting Britain and using the Imperious curse had gotten the young man to open the door that was warded against anyone magical opening it. If it had not been for the alarm ward also on the door, Krueger would have succeeded in releasing Cthulhu back into this world using Lovecraft as the required sacrifice. The Unspeakables had barely managed to keep Cthulhu contained within the Department of Mysteries and then returned to his realm, sealing the gateway between the two worlds once again. Cthulhu had not gone quietly though. He had taken Krueger’s magic as he was being forced back beyond the gate and as Krueger lay there dying due to the loss of his magic he swore revenge on those who prevented him from gaining his goals.

The Wheel room had been installed after Krueger’s death, but the magic used to make it work sometimes had problems because the room would open to areas it should not, so they had had to institute patrols in case someone managed to gain accidental access to an area they were not supposed to be in.

Just as Adrian was wishing that his next task as a probationary member of the department might be a little more exciting, two figures cloaked like he was came around the corner.

Adrian pulled his wand and ordered. “Halt. Only authorised personnel are allowed down here.”

“I am authorised,” the taller of the cloaked figures told him, “and I am escorting someone who also has a right to be here.”

“Prove it!” Adrian demanded, not lowering his wand. He did not remember any mention of visitors to the secure areas in this morning’s briefing. He made a mental note to have the spells that controlled the Wheel room rechecked. It looked like they might not be working correctly… again.

A hand appeared out of a billowy sleeve and in it was an oval piece of silver coloured metal. A moment later it began to glow.

Adrian stiffened and nearly dropped his wand when he saw the magically displayed symbols.

Writhing around the edges the edge of amulet were two dragons: one red and one green, and they were surrounding a glowing rock shape with a sword coming out of it. 

Adrian’s heart rate sped up as he realised who this person had to be. 

There had only been thirteen of these amulets created by Merlin and the symbols for all thirteen were displayed on the walls of a special room so that all Unspeakables would know it when they encountered one of the Knights… or in this case… _**Merlin**_. The Knights’ amulets regularly appeared and disappeared from the room, when Magic chose a new successor to the last Knight, but the one belonging to Merlin had never been stored in that room.

If he had returned to Magical Britain then things were about to get really bad. The last couple times Merlin had shown up it had been under different names and it had been when magical Britain stood on the brink of being destroyed. During the war with Grindelwald, most of the Unspeakables had wondered if he would show up then since that war was almost at global proportions and magic was on the verge of being revealed, but there had never been any reported sightings of him. Of course there had been rumours but none of the Unspeakables involved in the war effort against Grindlewald had been able to confirm them or if they had seen him, they had died before being able to pass the information along. 

Given that Merlin was here **now** then in all likelihood He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named _**really was back**_ , despite what Minister Fudge was claiming. With this understanding, Adrian knew that the current Head of the Unspeakables would need to be alerted to the truth and that they might have to take steps to neutralise Fudge and those under him.

Methos smirked having a good idea of what was making the man stand there silently, but when the Unspeakable continued to remain silent, he finally asked, “May we go?”

That seemed to shake the cloaked man blocking their way out of his stupor. 

“Sorry sir, of course you may, but may I ask where you are headed?” There was a pause as Adrian stepped out of his way, and then he hurried on with his reason for asking. “I need to alert my immediate superior that you are here and the Head of the Department will no doubt wish to speak with you.”

“My apprentice and I are going to the Hall of Prophecies.” Methos told him. “As for the Cennaire, he or she can reach me through Gringotts under the name of Adam Bronson. I have arranged a secure mail drop with them.”

Adrian looked at the smaller cloaked figure and could not help wondering who Merlin’s apprentice was. The last apprentice on record for Merlin was Arthur and he had been considered by most of the magical world to be non-magical, so he did not count. Adrian wondered if Merlin’s new apprentice was going to share the same fate as his first apprentice and become King, only a _**magical**_ King or would his destiny be even greater? Like becoming like Merlin?

From his training, the Unspeakable knew that the cloaked figure was a wizard and not a muggle by the way he moved and the fact that he had made it past the guard desk in the Atrium. He also appeared to be a young one based on his height. Adrian was fairly certain that Merlin's apprentice was most likely a third year or while less likely a very short fourth year. As far as Adrian knew there were no records under any of the alias’ that the Unspeakables had managed to link to Merlin, that indicated he had ever taken on a _**magical**_ apprentice before, which meant this young wizard must be exceptional for Merlin to take an interest in him. Adrian was also willing to bet that that Merlin’s apprentice was most likely from another country, because there was no way that Hogwarts or the Unspeakables could have missed a child powerful enough to attract Merlin’s attention.

As Merlin aka currently know as Adam Bronson started to move past him with his apprentice at his side and head further down the hall, Adrian told him, “Sir, you are going the wrong way for the Hall of Prophecies. It is now only accessible through the Wheel room, which is the room the lift opens out to from the Atrium.”

“Wheel room?” Methos turned back to look him. “Why was the entrance moved?”

Adrian explained about Krueger and how he had nearly released Cthulhu. He then asked if Merlin would like him to arrange escort for him and his apprentice to the Hall of Prophecies. He did so knowing full well that this would allow him to inform others about the return of Merlin sooner and it would also give them a chance to learn about his apprentice.

Methos sighed, wondering what had weakened the wards he and the Founders of Hogwarts had put up. He would need to check them before they left. Last thing they needed was that **damn** demon getting loose again. “In that case a guide would be helpful. Also please make sure that whoever our guide is that it is someone who can take us down to Cthulhu’s gateway, so I can check the wards and maybe add a few of my own. The last thing this world needs is a demon as powerful as Cthulhu is getting loose.”

####

Horatio Cobbler looked up as a bulldog patronus came into his office and said, “Sir, the Sword Master has returned… **with** an apprentice They are with me on level 5 and need an escort to the Hall of Prophecies and he has also asked to be taken to Cthulhu’s gateway afterwards, to check and possibly strengthen the wards.”

Horatio stared at the spot Holmes’ patronus had occupied a few moments before in disbelief. **He was back!** … And **he** had an _**Apprentice**_.

He quickly fire called Croaker and let him know and also to see if there were any Knights currently in the building because they would be the best choice for guide. They would also be able to gain information on the Apprentice, assuming Merlin did not bind them to secrecy on his identity.

Croaker advised him he would send Knight Galahad to act as escort to the Sword Master and his apprentice.

####

Adrian’s supply of small talk was beginning to run out, when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Looking behind him he saw a tall slender person shrouded in a cloak moving quickly toward them.

"Sword Master, welcome back, I am Galahad," the cloaked man introduced himself. "We are honoured that you have returned to us and that you have brought your apprentice with you. I will be acting as your guide for the remainder of your stay within the Department of Mysteries."

“Thank you, Sir Knight,” the cloaked head opposite him tilted slightly in acknowledgement. “I had originally only intended to stop by the Hall of Prophecies, but given the incursion I was told about near the gateway, I would like to also go there, so I can look the wards over and see if there is anything I can add to the protections and seals you already have in place.”

“We welcome any assistance you would care to provide, Sword Master.” Galahad was fairly certain that the researchers among the Unspeakables would be salivating at the thought of having some new “old” wards to study once Merlin was done. It was a well-known fact that some of the researchers would sell their own balls to have a peek at any ancient magic. The fact that Merlin wanted to add more wards and seals on one of the gateways meant that it would be a feeding frenzy among them for a chance to study them.

Turning his attention to the other Unspeakable nearby, Galahad told him. “Watcher,” he noticed that Merlin’s head jerked slightly at that title and filed the unusual reaction away for later. “I have been asked to tell you to please report to the Gatekeeper’s office.” 

“I have not completed my patrol, yet.” Adrian told him.

“That is being taken care of, as we speak.” The other Unspeakable assured him.

Adrian nodded then turned his attention back to Merlin and his Apprentice. “Sword Master it was a great pleasure to meet you. It was also a pleasure to meet you Apprentice. In a way I envy you. You get to learn from the greatest wizard of all time. I hope that I will get to meet you again one day.”

Harry said nothing, but inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Adrian bowed to all three of them before turning around and going back down the hall he had just come down.

“Sword Master, if you and your apprentice will accompany me, I will take you to the Hall of Prophecies.” Galahad told them.

As Harry started walking beside Adam and the man who had identified himself as Galahad and whom Adam had called a Knight, he heard Adam say, “Galahad, tell me what has been going on in Magical Britain for the last fifty years or so? I also need to know who the major players are as well as any minor ones who might tip the balance... _on either side_.”

Merlin’s question confirmed for Galahad that the Dark Lord had to be back, otherwise why would Merlin ask for what was essentially a situation report on the way things currently stood in magical Britain as well as wanting to know who stood where in the conflict. Since such a report would take a while and he did not want to accidentally be overheard, Galahad opted to take them the long way around to give himself time to provide Merlin with the information he needed to have.

Even though Harry only understood some of what Galahad was saying he still listened because Adam had told him that Immortal’s had a nearly perfect photographic recall of things they had experienced first hand and this information might be needed later.

As they walked up a flight of stairs, Harry could not help wondering what their guide’s real name was. He doubted that any parent, whether they were magical or muggle would name their son Galahad, given that the name, from what he remembered of his primary school classes about British history, was associated with the _virgin_ knight of the Round Table. He had learned over the last couple of weeks from Sirius that to Pure-Bloods a name represented what they either hoped their child would grow up to be or the traits they hoped their child would have. He could not imagine any pure-blood wishing their son would be a virgin throughout his life.

Harry had gotten so lost in his thoughts about their guide that he walked into Adam’s back when the older Immortal suddenly came to a stop in front of an elevator. It took Harry a moment to realise they were back in the Atrium.

As he looked around the relatively empty Atrium, he noticed that the Ministry guard near the phone booth entrance was studiously avoiding looking in their direction and wondered why. Surely three cloaked figures should have been at least a little suspicious and made him at least want to question their presence.

Galahad noticed where Merlin’s Apprentice was looking and answered his question before it could be asked. “The guard knows by my cloak that I am an Unspeakable. He also knows not to question the actions of an Unspeakable because I might be on crucial business and that any delay might affect the success of my mission."

"And our presence?" Adam asked.

"Since you are with me, he knows that you are involved in my task.” Galahad told him.

"Will he report our presence back to his masters?" Adam wanted to know.

Galahad shook his head. “No. Most Ministry personnel prefer to have as little contact as possible with the Unspeakables, since we are the ones who experiment with the unknown and dangerous magicks.”

Harry tugged on Adam’s sleeve and as he leaned down, Harry whispered, “If everyone in the Ministry ignores the Unspeakables when they are in their cloaks what is to stop someone from pretending to be an Unspeakable to get into the Ministry and gaining access to things in their department or to take over the whole Ministry?”

Galahad watched as Merlin’s apprentice whispered something to his Master and concluded the young wizard must be shy, as Merlin nodded and commented, “Valid point.”

“Galahad, what is to prevent someone from stealing a cloak or having one made like the one you wear and using it to sneak into the Ministry?” Merlin asked casually. “After all the cloaks I and my apprentice are wearing were made in the non-magical world, so what is to stop a follower of Voldemort aka Lord Runs-from-Death or some other wizard from doing the same thing and invading Ministry and taking control of it?”

Galahad was silent for several minutes. “As far as I know, no one has ever attempted such a thing given the reputation the Department of Mysteries has. Given that the cloaks have spells and enchantments bound into them, and only one tailor in Diagon Alley is authorized by us to make them, so if someone tried to get them made elsewhere the tailor’s would report that individual. Also, no witch or wizard would really feel comfortable trying to find a tailor in the muggle world to make them a cloak.”

“How can you be so certain?” Adam asked. He needed to get the Knight thinking about the holes that might be in the security for the Department of Mysteries. The Unspeakables had been established to keep watch over a number of dangerous things like the demon gate that the first Unspeakable they had contact with had told them had been opened in the early 1900’s and the Unspeakables had apparently gotten lucky and managed to drive Cthulhu back and get the gate closed. “From what I have heard, Voldemort is willing to do whatever he has to and threaten whoever he has to to accomplish his goals. How can you be certain that **his** followers have not either managed to sneak into your department or been recruited, willingly or not, after they became a part of it?”

Galahad apparently was not as successful at hiding his flinching as he had hoped at the mention of Voldemort’s name the second time, because Merlin’s sharp eyes noticed it the second time and went on. “And your reaction to Lord Runs From Death’s name brings up another issue. How did **he** learn how to make his name Taboo? There are no books at Flourish and Blotts that even mention the topic and I am fairly certain that Hogwarts does not have any books on the subject either. Which means that either someone who knew how _taught_ him or else gave him books on how to do it, from the **only** place they could be found.”

Galahad opened his mouth to say something about how the Dark Lord could not have gotten the information from their department but then he remembered Rookwood who was currently locked away in Azkaban for being one of the Dark Lord’s followers. How the man managed to keep his magic after violating the oath he had sworn to keep the knowledge he gained as an Unspeakable from being used to destroy magical Britain was something that Galahad had never been able to figure out. 

Finally Galahad was forced to admit, “I would like to be able to say that no Unspeakable would betray their oath by co-operating with the Dark Lord, but I can not. It has happened only once in my lifetime.” The concern was very evident in Galahad’s voice as he went on. “As for the other problems you have pointed out, I assure you that I will bring those matters up with the Head of our department as soon as possible. We should not be so arrogant as to think that just because we are Unspeakables that we have **every** possibility covered. Our department contains too much knowledge that would be dangerous in the wrong hands and too many powerful and dangerous magicks that can be used to harm as well as help.”

“I find it is always best to over prepare, just in case.” Adam agreed. “A non-magical engineer that I knew once upon a time named Murphy came up with a rule that I have found to be very true: _Anything that can possibly go wrong, does._ Others of course have added on to that rule with sayings like: _'If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong.'_ Another added, _'If anything just cannot go wrong, it will anyway'_ or _'If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which something can go wrong, and circumvent these, then a fifth way, unprepared for, will promptly develop.'_ And the most important one, at least in this matter, _'If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something'_ ”

“There is much wisdom in what you have said, Sword Master.” Galahad agreed, pressing the down button beside the gate to the lifts. “We should never be certain that we have taken care of every possible flaw, because that is when the one thing we have overlooked will be revealed as a weakness.” 

When the lift arrived all three entered and Galahad pressed the button labelled 9. The grill guarding the lift closed and the lift started going down.

When the lift reached its destination a cool feminine voice announced, “Department of Mysteries.”

“You announce where your department is?” Adam sounded a little surprised.

“It has avoided some problems with people not paying attention when they get off the lifts.” Galahad admitted. 

Adam nodded in understanding. He knew a few people like that. 

In fact, Galahad’s words reminded him of a young university student he had met in Chicago while doing some research for the Watchers. The young man had been working on getting his Doctorate in Archaeology when Adam had met him. He had seen him get so involved in his research at times that some of his fellow students had commented that they would not be surprised to one day come in and find his skeleton hunched over his books in a corner of the library. A few others claimed that he could get so engrossed in his work that a bomb could go off nearby and he would not notice it.

As he followed Galahad out of the lift, Adam could not help wondering what had happened to that young man. He had the ability think outside the rather rigid box of Archaeology and that was not a really encouraged trait in that profession.

Galahad led the now silent pair to the plain black door at the end of a very short corridor and opened it. 

Once they were in the room, Harry looked around. He could understand why it was called the wheel room, since it was round with doors set in the wall like the ending spokes of a wheel with candles burning with blue flame set between each door. The thing he could not figure out was how you would know which door to go through since there was no symbol or label on any of the black doors. And more importantly how would you open the door since none of them seemed to have a doorknob.

When their escort shut the door behind him, Harry almost wished he had not done so, because without that light coming in from the corridor, the room took on a spooky atmosphere with the only light coming from the blue flames of the candles. The blue flames also made them appear as ghosts on the black marble floor. He reflected that the Unspeakables must really like things creepy or else they wanted the rest of the Ministry off balance whenever they had to come down here. Harry reflected that this place was now making him feel like he was in the outer hallway leading to the Chamber of Secrets, the only thing missing here were the bones and bits of shed snakeskin.

“This is certainly a cheery place you have here.” Adam commented. “The only thing missing are skeletons hanging from the walls. I bet any Dark Lord or evil super villain in the normal world would love the name of your decorator to design their lair.”

Galahad heard the joking tone in his voice and responded in kind. “It does insure that only the truly determined come to see us. As for the designer, I think he did have plans along those lines at least from what we found after his death. He slipped on a bar of soap that he had dropped in his tub and hit his head against the wall, so he never got to carry them out.”

“Ah,” Adam nodded, “yet another one who did not read the Evil Overlord’s list.”

“Evil OverLord’s List?” Galahad had never heard of such a list. 

“It is a largely underground list that was created in the non-magical world of things a Super villain should avoid doing if they wish to stay in power.” Adam told him. “Fortunately for the world most Dark Lord’s and Super Villains are too arrogant to ever read such a list because they think they are invincible.”

Before Galahad could make any further comments there was a rumbling sound and the walls seemed to spin because the blue candle flames seemed to become wavering but solid thin blue lines for a few moments then they stopped.

He noticed that both Merlin and his apprentice had both gone on alert, looking around for danger. He spoke quickly to reassure them. “Do not be alarmed Sword Master that was just a function of the room. It will only allow one group in at a time to go through the doorways. The door that will return us to the main area of the Ministry will reappear when we come back from the Hall of Prophecies.”

As soon as Galahad finished speaking, the door that was facing Harry opened. He looked back at their guide and Galahad as if understanding the unasked question said, “Yes that is the doorway to the Hall of Prophecies.”

Galahad led the way into the Hall. 

Harry saw a line of desks in a small narrow room and on one of them was a huge jar shaped like a bell that appeared to be full of some kind of glittery substance being blown about by an unseen wind. 

Both he and Adam stopped to watch it for a moment and saw an egg crack open and hummingbird flew out of it. The unseen wind carried it to the very top of the jar and then it fell back down to the bottom of the jar it’s wings looking damp and like they were missing pieces, then the egg appeared once again.

“So the Department of Mysteries is experimenting with Time Travel.” Harry heard no emotion in Adam’s voice as he made that comment.

"Yes and no," Galahad replied cautiously. "That was an experiment of a Dark Lady that lived about 250 years ago. We have been trying to figure out what she did so we can end the process and free the poor creature or at least end it's suffering. The Unspeakables are in agreement that time travel is one of the biggest dangers to our world. All it would take is one mistake and our world could be radically changed beyond anyone’s power to fix it. We have been trying to get time turners outlawed but the Ministry will not allow it. The best we have been able to do for now is restrict who can gain access to them and how far back in time they can take someone, but even that is not one hundred percent effective, given that those with enough power can get a time turner any time they want like Dumbledore a couple of years ago. From my understanding he got it solely because a student who was a friend of Harry Potter’s wanted to take all the classes available to a third year at Hogwarts. He still has not returned it either."

“I can see that I have quite a lot of business to conduct with Dumbledore this year.” Merlin muttered just loud enough for Galahad to hear. Galahad almost felt sorry for Dumbledore… _almost._

As he turned to lead them into the next room, Galahad heard a young male voice ask, “Can I watch?” and wondered what Dumbledore had done to get on the wrong side of Merlin’s Apprentice.

As Galahad led the pair into the Hall of Prophecies, he realised he was going to be delivering a rather lengthy report to his superiors. He did not know if they would be pleased or surprised that Merlin agreed with their assessment of Dumbledore and that he needed to be dealt with, before he caused more harm.

Harry stared around the next room in amazement. It was about as big as a church sanctuary and filled with row upon row of shelves holding a lot of small dusty glass orbs.

“How are we going to ever find one specific prophecy among all of these?” Galahad heard the young voice ask and had a certain amount of curiosity about it himself.

He had gotten the impression that Merlin knew there was a prophecy concerning his apprentice, but had given no details on when it might have been made. If he had that information it would have helped Galahad get them to the right row of shelves, if not to the right prophecy.

“We are going to use your magical tone to find it.” Adam told the pair as he opened his cloak and pulled a pouch out of the inside pocket of his cloak.

As Galahad watched, he pulled a tuning fork out of the pouch and handed it to his apprentice and then instructed the boy, “Get comfortable and calm your mind the way I showed you, then when you are ready, hold the tuning fork in your right hand and tap it gently on the ground. It will emit a tone that resonates with your magic. As the sound travels through the room, it will cause any sphere you are tied to magically to glow and vibrate.”

Merlin turned to look at Galahad. “Once he has struck the tuning fork, please check the shelves for an active sphere.”

Galahad nodded and watched with interest a ritual he had never seen before.

He watched as Merlin’s Apprentice seated himself on one of the flagstones that made up the floor, with his hands resting palm up on his knees, the tuning fork in his right hand. After several minutes, the boy reached out and tapped the tuning fork on the flagstone in front of him. 

The tone that came from the tuning fork was deeper and a little more intense than Galahad expected. Certain aspects of it though reminded him of a sound he had once gotten to hear when he had gotten the chance to watch the Moutohora Macaws play Quidditch when he was a boy. The team’s mascot just happened to be a phoenix named appropriately enough Sparky. The tone coming from the tuning fork felt just as pure and calming, as Sparky’s song had been.

It took Galahad a few moments to pull his mind away from the enchanting tone and remember what he was supposed to be doing.

He walked slowly and carefully up and down the shelf rows looking for an orb that was glowing and or vibrating. He finally found what he was looking for on the ninety-seventh row, which put in the middle of the Hall. He stood there staring at the label stuck to the front of the shelf beneath the orb in disbelief. 

It read _SPT to APWBD Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter._

_There was no way that Merlin’s Apprentice could be linked to the prophecy._

First because based on his size he was clearly thirteen or fourteen years old and second because this particular prophecy belonged to Harry Potter who was at this moment being tried by Minister Fudge for under-aged magic. The fact that it had been changed from a simple hearing in the Department of Magical Education to a full trial in front of the Wizengamot, made it quite clear to the Unspeakables at least that Fudge wanted potter gone by any means necessary. Some among the Unspeakables had spent a large part of the morning wondering if Fudge knew what he was setting himself up for, given that he and anyone else who voted to convict would be rendering a false verdict and would lose their magic as a result, since an adult and Potter would be considered one by magic the minute he set foot in that courtroom, could not be guilty of under-aged magic.

“Galahad!” Merlin called, interrupting Galahad’s train of thought. “Have you found it?”

“I am not sure,” Galahad answered honestly. “I found a glowing orb, but it is thought to belong to someone else.”

“What row are you on?” Merlin called back.

“Ninety-seven.”

Merlin and his apprentice joined him a few minutes later.

They both stared at the orb for a few moments before Merlin told his apprentice. “Take it from the shelf and hold it up so I can tap it with my wand then we can hear it.”

Harry had been a little surprised to see his name on the shelf, but then realised he should not have been given how determined Voldemort was to kill him. He reached out and grabbed the orb off the shelf and held it up so that Adam could tap it with his wand.

An image draped in a number of shawls appeared and when it spoke, Harry recognised it as Sybil Trelawney’s speaking in a tone of voice he had heard only once before.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_

Once the prophecy was completed, Merlin’s apprentice commented, “so this is what he meant when he said ‘that brings her total of real predictions to two’. This was Trelawney’s **first** one.”

“It is also a very generic prophecy.” Merlin pointed out. “If I did not know how to recognise the signs, I would have thought this Trelawney person was making it up. It named no specific Dark Lord and could have meant some Dark Lord a hundred years in the future just as easily as Lord Runs-From-Death. Just like Oedipus’ Father tried to circumvent the prophecy about his son killing him and marrying his mother, Lord Death-phobic wound up actually making the events happen. If he had not done that who knows how the world might look today.”

“Do you think **he** knows all of it?” Galahad thought Merlin’s apprentice sounded a little worried.

“I doubt it.” Merlin seemed certain of that. “I think he only found out about part of it, though how would be an interesting question. If he had known all of it, I do not think he would have gone near _**anyone**_ who was born during the seventh month. There is also the question of what if he did decide not to ignore it and started killing those born at the end of the seventh month, which calendar was the prophecy referring to? The Lunar Calendar? The Druidic? The Chinese? The Aztec? The Jewish? The Babylonian? All of them have a different seventh month and a different point at which it ends.”

Galahad listened to the conversation between then totally bewildered and not liking the feeling at all. How did Merlin’s Apprentice know Sybil Trelawney? She never left Hogwarts. Dumbledore kept an even tighter hold on her than he did Potter. Had the young wizard attended Hogwarts? If so then how did the Unspeakables miss the fact that he was a powerful young wizard, because he would have to be powerful to even remotely qualify as someone worthy of Merlin’s time. And more importantly how could the prophecy apply to him, even if he had been born in July or whatever seventh month applied to this prophecy, he was born at least a year after it had been made.

“Sword Master, how could your apprentice have been marked by the Dark Lord, when it is Harry Potter who bears the mark showing he survived the Killing Curse?” Galahad chose his words with care.

“Before you can learn that I would need an oath of silence from you about his identity until either he or I release you from the oath.” Merlin told him after a few moments silence. “There are too many who are trying to control him, and I need to limit their ability to do so.”

Galahad was silent, weighing his obligations and duties. He had his duties to the Unspeakables to aid in protecting magical Britain and the fact that Merlin’s Apprentice was the one tied to the prophecy concerning the Dark Lord’s defeat was something that the Head of the Unspeakables needed to know. But he also had his duties as a Knight and to the leader of the Order… Merlin. This was the first time the two had come into conflict, but his duties as a Knight came first given that _magic_ had chosen him from among the other Unspeakables to take the seat that had once belonged to Galahad. Merlin was the leader of the Knights… well technically, Galahad mentally conceded, he was also the Head of the Unspeakables, even though he had not really exercised that authority in centuries, so that meant he had the right to order him to stay silent. He also had the right not to tell him why his apprentice was tied to a prophecy concerning Harry Potter.

Lowering the hood of his cloak and raising his wand, the Knight known as Galahad spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. “I, Myles Keegan, chosen by Magic to serve in the Seat of Galahad at the Round Table, do hereby swear that until I am released from my oath I will honour the trust that Sword Master Merlin and his current apprentice have placed in me by not speaking of anything they choose to reveal to me that they say must remain secret.”

A white glow surrounded the dark haired man as Harry Watched and once it was gone, Adam lowered his hood and motioned for Harry to do the same.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Keegan,” Adam inclined his head slightly. “You may call me Adam Bronson… at least for now… and this is my apprentice… Harry Potter.”

Myles stared silently at the young wizard. _Merlin’s Apprentice was **Harry Potter… The** Harry Potter_. 

While he knew that Merlin had a reputation as a very powerful mage, Myles could not help wondering how he had managed to get Potter out from under Dumbledore’s control **without** the Chief Warlock being aware of it.

“Mr. Potter. Mr. Bronson.” Myles nodded slightly to each of them. “Sir, this is just further proof that Dumbledore is not even in your class though he would like to have himself thought of as you reborn. If you do not mind my asking, sir, how did you manage to make contact with Mr. Potter? We have been trying to reach Mr. Potter to arrange to get him in here to hear this prophecy since his return to the magical world.”

“I take it you put a trace on any mail you sent to him when your attempts failed.” Adam commented matter-of-factly. 

“Yes,” Myles agreed. “That is how we found out about the redirect Dumbledore had placed on all mail that was being sent to Mr. Potter. The only mail that can get through is what Dumbledore allows to reach him. Everything else went to Hogwarts. Whether they were read there or not we do not know. I am fairly certain that early on, it made sense to have the redirect in place given that those who were in the Dark Lord’s camp would have loved to have sent something to Mr. Potter that would have at least caused him harm if not taken him to them. Those things that were not harmful though they should have been held for and then given to Mr. Potter, once he re-entered the magical world…”

“Wait, a minute," Harry interrupted what Myles had been about to say, “are you saying that Dumbledore has been intercepting my **mail**? And the only mail I am _**allowed**_ to get is from people that he _**approves**_ of?”

“Yes,” Myles told him simply.

“And the reason why no one has interfered in what in the muggle world would have him arrested is because he is _Dumbledore_?” It was not so much a question as a statement from Harry.

“Yes,” Myles agreed then added, ”though to be fair, most in the Ministry are not aware that he had done it and those who were, probably thought he stopped the redirect when you started going to Hogwarts.”

“We will get it taken care of Harry, do not worry,” Adam assured him as the shelves around them started to rattle a little. “It will take a few days, but I should be able to start making his life very difficult until he does release the mail he kept from you. I doubt he would have kept anything dangerous, except as maybe blackmail material. We will also arrange for someone else… not Dumbledore to sort through any future mail to determine what is safe and what is not.”

Harry thought about it for a minute and nodded his acceptance. He had seen the man in action against Fudge and how he had managed to get for his Godfather what Dumbledore had not… a trial. He had a feeling that the next couple of years until he graduated from Hogwarts were going to prove very disappointing for the Headmaster.

“Adam” Myles spoke up. “Would you arrange for any dangerous mail that Mr. Potter receives to be forwarded to us? I will set up a contact for it to be sent to, so that we can take care of those who might prove dangerous to magical Britain.”

“I think that can be arranged. And could you do me the favour of creating a record at the Ministry for me under the name of Adam Bronson. I expect that Dumbledore is do some snooping into my current identity?” Adam requested.

“Any particular Masteries?” Myles asked, knowing that it should be no problem to get a record put in the Ministry files for Merlin.

“Well, when I appeared before Fudge and Wizengamot I was acting as a solicitor, so proof that I hold a license to practice law in magical Britain at least. However since I need to get Dumbledore’s attention, I will need at least a Mastery in Defence against the Dark Arts, since as I understand it the position is once again vacant.” Adam told him.

“We will see that it is taken care of, Sword Master,” Myles promised him.

“Well, now that that is taken care of it looks like we are done here so lets go have a look at the Gateway and see if anything needs to be added to its protections. After that Mr. Potter and I need to get to Gringotts to take care of the paperwork dealing with his being declared a legal adult thanks to Fudge’s attempts to get him removed from Hogwarts.” Adam gestured for Harry to precede him to the aisle that led to the front of the Hall.

“ _Myrddin, you missed one._ ”

All three of them turned in surprised toward the back of the Hall at those words. At the end of the main aisle there was a man with dark brown hair and eyes. He was wore a snow white poet shirt and a leather vest and as they got closer to him they could see that he did not have human legs but legs like a goat and a set of small horns that curled back into his golden brown hair as well as a set of pointed ears and he was holding a glowing orb.

“Hello Puck,” Adam sighed, “I should have known you or one of yours was involved. The timing of my first meeting with Mr. Potter was just a little bit too convenient.”

“Why Myrddin, one would think you were not happy to see me.” Puck commented before taking a look at Harry. “A pleasure to see you again, young Harry.”

Harry looked at the person Adam had named Puck. “I am sorry to say, I do not remember meeting you before.”

“The night we met was a rather traumatic one for you. It was in October of 1981,” Puck added helpfully.

Adam put things together rather quickly and told Myles, “No one else must know about this meeting or anything said here.” Then he turned his attention to Puck. “I take it you are responsible for the irregularity occurring with Mr Potter’s… growth?”

“Yes,” Puck agreed. “If he was to have any hope of fulfilling his destiny it had to be done.”

“On that topic, can you tell me how Riddle aka Lord Runs from Death survived?” Adam needed to know. He knew the Dark wizard was not an Immortal, or Ollivander would have known when he came in for his first wand that he was pre-immortal and told Adam about it since it was information he would need.

“Yes, Lord Oberon instructed me to tell you if you asked.” Puck told him solemnly. “What he did is considered an **abomination** by all of the magical community, but most especially the Sidhe. He made Soul vessels.”

Adam’s face went pale. “Knowledge of that abomination _survived_? I thought we destroyed all information on that centuries ago.”

“Yes,” Puck told him simply. “While you were very thorough, some of it was hidden until recently.”

“Who told him about it?” Adam wanted to know.

“A Professor who used to work at Hogwarts… Horace Slughorn, though to be fair to the man, Riddle got him quite drunk to get access to his family’s books and the knowledge was there.”

“Does he still have the book?”

“No. Riddle does.” Puck told him.

“Excuse me, but who is Riddle?” Myles Keegan asked.

“You call him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, because of the taboo he placed on his name.” Adam told him then he got back to business. “Was he foolish enough to make more than one?”

“Yes, he managed to successfully make six. The seventh was destroyed before it could take root, though that vessel was unintentional” Puck glanced at Harry. “And before you ask, five still survive. Mr. Potter destroyed one during his second year at Hogwarts. That is part of the reason that he is tied to that prophecy concerning Riddle.”

“You said there was a second prophecy concerning me?” Harry spoke up.

“Yes,” Puck handed over the glowing orb.

Sighing, Adam pulled out his wand and tapped the new orb. 

Another female spoke in a hollow sounding voice, though this one sounded much older: 

_Magic’s chosen approaches... touched by Enlil…gifted by mischief of the Sidhe… guided by the oldest of Enlil’s children.  
The guide's arrival signifies a fork in the road for all of Magic... A choice to be made that cannot be unmade...  
If the right choice is made then continued life for magic will be the reward...   
If the wrong one is made... then the truth will be realised to too late to undo  
Will the children of magic heed the warning the guide brings?... Magic’s chosen approaches... _

“Interesting,” Adam commented. “For once a fairly clear and unambiguous prophecy.”

“Who is Enlil?” Harry had never heard that name before. “And what are the Sidhe?”

“Enili is the ancient Babylonian god of Lightning and Storms.” Adam told him. “And Puck here is one of the Sidhe. Or you might know them by their other name the Fae”

“Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Robin Goodfellow, though I am known to my friends and by some like Myriddin here as Puck. It is a pleasure to properly meet you, Harry Potter.” Puck gave him a grand bow.

“Hello…” Harry paused not sure what name to use. “Um, should I call you Mr. Goodfellow, Robin, or Puck?”

“Call me Puck,” the Faun told him. 

“Puck,” Adam got his attention back. “How long before what you did wears off?”

“Twenty-five.” Puck told him. “Lord Oberon thought it was a good stopping point.”

Adam nodded he had to agree with that reasoning. It would make Harry old enough to stand a chance in a fight and also be listened to, even if some might think he was too young.

Myles looked back and forth between the three standing in front of him and knew there was a whole conversation going on that he had completely missed. He didn’t ask any questions since Merlin, by invoking his oath, had indicated it was personal business, though he did have to admit being curious as to how Mr. Potter could be the focus of **two** prophecies at the same time. Before he could ask about that, he received another shock as the Faun known as Puck grabbed the orb out of Mr. Potter’s hand and raised it over his head with the clear intention of smashing it.

“No!” he shouted. “You can not do that!”

Puck stared at him as if he had lost his mind and Merlin spoke two words. “Do it.”

As the orb shattered on the ground and the mist contained within it rose, Methos told Puck in ancient Babylonian. “ _We need to talk. I need to know what has been going on and why my apprentice is connected to **two** prophecies. Also if you have or can get this information, I need to know what Riddle used for his soul vessels and where they are._ ”

Puck nodded slightly in agreement.

“Sword Master, how could you let him do that?” Myles demanded, his shock at a prophecy orb being destroyed made him miss the exchange between the immortal and the fae.

“Because that is one prophecy we can not take the risk of **anyone** finding out about.” Merlin told him. “Just think for a moment about what would happen if anyone else would to learn of this prophecy? I doubt there is much they would not try to do to control what Harry says and does and if they control him then can control the path of magic. And that is not even taking into account those who know of and want to destroy the magical world. If they could kill Harry then magic would die.” 

There was a long pause and then Adam told him very seriously, “It is only because of the oath you swore to us that I am **not** removing the memory of this prophecy from you. You oath will prevent anyone from getting it from you… by any means.”

#########

Tonks sighed and did a tempus spell for what felt like the millionth time. It reported the time as 12:35. She couldn’t help wondering what was keeping Harry and his _supposed_ solicitor.

She remembered how surprised everyone at Headquarters had when Dumbledore had fire-called to let them know that Harry had vanished with strange wizard after the hearing. He had no other information and had even forgotten to tell them how the hearing had gone. The only thing, Dumbledore was certain of, was the fact that Harry and the wizard called Adam Bronson were heading towards Gringotts. He has also provided a description of this unknown wizard: Adam Bronson so they would know him when they saw him.

Since the firecall from Dumbledore a few hours ago, Tonks had been waiting for Harry to arrive at Gringotts. She had been given the job since everyone else has some place they had to be and her shift as an Auror did not start until 2.

_Where were they?_

She was running out of time and if they did not show up soon, then she was going to have to leave and there was no one who could take her place.

At 5 minutes before 1, she finally caught sight of Harry walking toward Gringotts in the company of two men. One of the pair matched the description Dumbledore had provided of Bronson, Harry’s Solicitor

The other man though made Tonks stop and reconsider her original plan because she recognised him from the Ministry. She had seen him going into Madame Bones’ office a few times and one of the older Aurors had told her his name was Myles Keegan and that he worked in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

From the way the two men were acting and how they were talking animatedly at each other, she guessed they were old friends, which meant she could not follow her original plan of saying she had been tasked by the Chief Warlock (or maybe Bones?) to make sure that Potter got home safely, because Keegan might check out that claim if his friend asked him to and it could cost her her job.

Tonks decided to revise it and say that Arthur Weasley had asked her to make sure that Harry made it safely back to the Burrow.

#######

“Harry,” an unexpected voice called out from the direction of Gringotts. “Harry, you are going to be in **so** much trouble when I get you back to the Burrow.”

All three stopped and watched as a slender woman stalked over to them, her hair changing colours rapidly, going from red to brown to pink to green and other colours in between “Harry, do you have any idea how worried everyone is about you? _**I**_ was the one that had to fire-call Molly and tell her that I could not find you after the hearing to escort you back to their place like I had agreed to do. Do you have any idea how terrifying _that woman_ can be when _**she** thinks **you**_ have lost track of someone **she** considers one of her children?”

Having heard rumours of what Molly Weasley could be like from his companions in the Regulation office as well as from some of the older Unspeakables, Myles commented, “Adam, I hope you have your will prepared.”

“I keep it updated, whenever there is a need for me to do so. Though I seriously doubt today will be that day.” Adam countered dryly. “And why would this… Molly person seem to think that Mr. Potter was to be returning to the… Burrow was it, Miss …. ?”

“Tonks.” Tonks identified herself. “Mr. Weasley had taken Harry to his hearing and made arrangements for me to take him to the Burrow after it was over, since he is to spend the remainder of the summer there.”

“You still have not explained, **Ms.** Tonks, who this Molly person is. Nor have you told us why _she_ is going to be furious with both you and Mr. Potter, given that Mr. Potter apparently had no idea that he was supposed to have an escort to some place other than his relative’s home after **all** of our business was concluded. And there is also the question of why no one bothered to mention this fact to Mr. Potter, given that he said nothing to me about it” Adam told the woman with the colour changing hair, suspecting that this was indeed one of Dumbledore’s lackey’s given she was addressing Harry in the manner of someone who considered themselves a friend.

“Adam,” Harry spoke up before Tonks could. “Molly Weasley is the mother of my friend Ron Weasley. She is a bit over-protective of anyone she claims as hers and she tends to get loud when she thinks that they are not doing what **she** thinks is best…. Think nesting mother dragon.”

“Ah,” Adam nodded his head. Immortal he might be but even he was not quite so suicidal as to want to face a nesting female dragon. “And were you told before we met up in the court room that someone was supposed to be taking you to this… Burrow place?”

“No,” Harry told him honestly. “Mr. Weasley just took me to Courtroom 10 and said he could not come in with me and said he would see me later.”

“Well, Ms. Tonks, It would seem that Mr. Potter was not informed that he was to be taken elsewhere after that farce of a trial he was given.” Adam told Tonks. “You may escort him to the Burrow…” 

Tonks started reaching for the boy, but Adam went on. “… After we have completed our business at Gringotts. If that is not acceptable to you then you may contact this Mrs. Weasley and let her know that **I** will be bringing him to this Burrow place and that **I** expect her to be _**civil**_ when we do arrive.”

“Can your business at Gringotts not be put off until another day sir?” Tonks asked, wanting to complete her task.

“Why should our business be delayed, Ms. Tonks?” Adam asked. “I told you that if you wished to escort Mr. Potter to this Burrow place the you would have to wait until our business was concluded, and that if you cannot wait, then I would insure that Mr. Potter was brought to this Burrow place. The appointment for Mr. Potter to speak with the Manager of the Black account was made about two weeks ago, so that assume control over the House of Black, until Mr. Sirius Black receives the trial he never had. There is no reason to reschedule it, simply because someone is expecting Mr. Potter to be somewhere he was never told he had to be.”

“Sirius Black is to receive _**a trial**_?” Tonks couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “When did that happen? The last time I heard, there was a “Kiss on Sight” order out on him.”

“During Mr. Potter’s trial, I was able to prove that Black never received a trial and pointed out that they would receive the **exact** same Fate as Mr. Black, if it was proven after his death that he was indeed innocent. They very quickly decided to do the right thing and insure he got a trial.” Adam told her. “Now are you accompanying us to Gringotts where **you** will wait in the lobby while we conduct our business with the goblins or do I escort Mr. Potter to this Burrow place? The clock is ticking and we are going to be late if you continue to detain us.”

Tonks debated with herself for several moments before stepping aside and gesturing toward Gringotts.

Once they were there and Harry and Bronson had headed off in the company of a Gringotts goblin, Tonks asked one of the tellers for permission to use private room to make a fire call. After much grumbling the teller made the arrangements for her.

Her first call was to the DMLE to tell them she would be a little late because she gotten a possible lead from one of her contacts on Sirius Black only the person she was to meet insisted on meeting her alone. When the Auror on duty advised her that the Kiss on Sight order was now a Capture Alive order, she faked a convincing amount of surprise.

Her next firecall was to Grimmauld Place. She let them know Harry had been found then she asked to speak with Sirius privately.

“We are alone, Tonks.” Sirius told her after a few moments. “What did you need to tell me.”

“Sirius, the Kiss on Sight order has been rescinded.” Tonks told him. “I do not know how this Solicitor that Harry found got it done, but if you can be brought in you are to get a trial. I confirmed it with the Aurors.”

“ _ **A trial!**_ ” Sirius whispered in disbelief. “I am to **finally** get a _**trial**_?”

“Yes Sirius.” Tonks confirmed.


	5. And the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (AN: Despite the fact that I had intended to have a bit more action in this chapter, like Sirius’ trial the plunnie simply wanted to put in a lot more filler information and I hit 12 pages really quick which meant Sirius trial is going to have to wait until the next chapter because it will take more than 5 pages to get through it and I have noticed that on my dialup connection I can’t get more than 18 pages to safely post.)

_**And the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is….** _

 

When Harry entered the kitchen at Grimmauld Place with Tonks and saw a number of people waiting for them, including Dumbledore, he was fairly certain the interrogation about Adam was about to begin.

“Harry!” Mrs. Weasley began as soon as Harry and Tonks cleared the doorway. “How could you be so foolish as to leave the Ministry with a total stranger? Anything could have happened to you while you were with this unknown wizard.”

“Mr. Bronson is not a stranger to me, Mrs Weasley.” Harry interrupted her before she could really get going. “He was the one who helped me save my cousin’s life from the Dementors, after the _**supposed**_ protector put at my relative’s home by the Order decided that it was far more important for him to desert his **assigned** post to go make an illegal galleon off a load of stolen cauldrons. There is no telling what would have happened to either Dudley or me, if Mr. Bronson had not been there, **especially** after Dudley knocked my wand out of my hand. Mr. Bronson also was responsible for helping me to get cleared of the charges for under-aged magic today.”

“Harry, how did you meet this… Mr. Bronson?” Arthur asked, before his wife could say anything else. They needed information and not the silent treatment they had been getting from Harry since they had brought him to Grimmauld Place. He had refused to listen when they told him they were trying to protect him and they did not need him refusing to answer their questions now because he was angry with them. “And why did you not mention that he had helped you before?”

“I would have thought the Headmaster’s spy, Arabella Figg, would have already told you about him and how he helped me with the Dementors, not to mention what he did to Fletcher.” Harry told them, then went on with the tale that Adam had drilled him on until he could recite it in his sleep, in case he was ever asked about their first meeting. “As for how I met him, you can thank the goblins. They sent him to speak to me since he was familiar with the muggle world, to see if I wanted to assume my duties as Regent for the House of Black, since I am now _of age_ , and Sirius had named me as his Heir shortly after I was born.”

“Harry,” Hermione interrupted, “you are not of age, so you can not take on the duties of a Regent in the Magical world, yet.”

“Miss. Granger is quite correct, Harry. Magical law states you must be seventeen years of age and you are not… yet.” Dumbledore put in solemnly. He could not afford for Harry to realise that he now had control over his own life.

“You know that is not true, Headmaster,” Harry countered a disappointed expression on his face. “While I may not be seventeen, yet, the Triwizard Tournament and today’s Wizengamot Hearing insured that as far as the magical government is concerned… _**I am**_ … and not even Fudge can reverse it, because of the old laws that are still active.”

Harry then turned his attention to Sirius. “I was kind of surprised to find out that you had named me as your heir a few months after I was born.”

Even though Harry had not asked, Sirius knew he wanted to know why and told him. “The Head of House Black is always male and despite my mothers insistence, my Grandfather never removed me as his named heir after my father died. And while I still hope to live long enough to have a family of my own, given the times we were living in then, I wanted to make sure that if something happened to me, that the Black family would have someone honourable leading it. You are related to me through your grandmother, Dorea Potter. I thought you would be a better choice than someone like Draco Malfoy. He would have been the only other choice given his mother is my cousin Narcissa.”

Harry nodded his head in understanding. He would not want Draco to be in charge of the Black Family either, if it could be avoided.

"Harry, you are too young to act as Regent for House Black, no matter what anyone says." Mrs. Weasley glared at Sirius. "You do not have the knowledge or experience to know what to do or say. Who knows what could happen if you said the wrong thing unintentionally, or if you accidentally allied yourself with someone like Malfoy. You need to appoint someone to act for you until you have been properly trained." 

"And whose fault is it that I do not know the responsibilities involved in being a Regent or a Lord, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry countered. "Perhaps we should ask my _**supposed**_ magical guardian why he neglected to teach me the things I needed to know to be able to assume my duties as the Head of my family or as Regent for the House of Black once I came _of age_." Harry looked over at Dumbledore. "Would you care to tell her why you neglected those duties Headmaster?" 

Dumbledore said nothing. 

After several minutes of silence, Harry spoke again. "I am not really surprised that you have nothing to say, Headmaster. You should also be aware that thanks to the Wizengamot's actions today, I was finally able to see my parent's will. And as a result, Headmaster, once the Dark Lord has been dealt with, you and I will be having a **long** discussion about what I learned their **real** intentions were … assuming nothing happens to you before then."

"Harry James Potter!" Molly screeched. "How dare you threaten Dumbledore after all he has done for you!" 

"Mrs. Weasley, I have made no threats." Harry's green eyes met hers calmly. "I merely stated facts. Everyone in the magical community **knows** that Dumbledore and I are at the top of Lord Runs-From-Death's list of people to be killed. Given that fact and given that Dumbledore is considered a bigger threat than I am, at the moment, the odds are very good that he will die before the Dark Lord is finally dealt with." 

"Harry, now is not the time to make jokes about the Dark Lord." Hermione chided him. "Nor, should you be treating the Headmaster with such disrespect."

"Calling the Dark Lord by that name is better than watching everyone flinch any time his made up name is said," Harry told her, "and I was not treating Dumbledore with disrespect. I was simply explaining to the Headmaster that he is going to have to face the consequences of his actions, once Lord Runs-From-Death has been dealt with, assuming he is not killed by Death Eaters... or someone else, first."

"Lord Runs-From-Death?" Sirius spoke up before Molly or Hermione could come up with a suitable reply. "How did you come up with that name for him?"

"Adam.... Mr. Bronson did." Harry told his godfather. "He was the one who told me that is what Riddle's made up name translates into. He also said he saw no reason not to use the English translation of his name."

"Runs from death..." Sirius chuckled. "It makes it sound like the Dark Lord has a bad case of diarrhoea.... Speaking of diarrhoea... I would love to see your Mr. Bronson in action against Fudge, given how he made a fool of the idiot Minister and I have no doubt he gave Fudge a bad case of the runs at your trial today. Do you think that he would be willing to defend me at my trial, once it has been set up?"

Harry handed him a piece of parchment. "Adam gave me a way for you to contact him if you were interested in having him do so."

"Harry!" Hermione sounded shocked. "How could you do something so foolish? What if that man placed some kind of tracking charm on it?"

"Hermione, while I may not be as smart as you, please credit me with _**some**_ common sense," Harry requested. " **I** wrote the contact information down, not Mr Bronson. That piece of parchment was supplied by the goblin in charge of the Black accounts and I used a quill provided by that same goblin. And before you go saying that the goblins can not be trusted, I would suggest you consider one thing... The goblins of Gringotts are in business to make a profit for themselves. There is very little they would not do if there was some kind of profit in it for them. That being the case, if the assessment the account managers at Gringotts gave me is accurate regarding the worth of both the Potter and Black accounts, then Sirius and I control **a lot** of galleons. So I would think that would put us... at least for now... in the category of those that the goblins do not want to annoy."

Hermione looked surprised. _Why would Harry think she was calling him stupid? She was trying to protect him. Did he not realise that? Without her help he **always** managed to get into trouble because he acted without thinking things out._

Before Hermione could respond Harry turned his attention back to his godfather and requested. "Sirius, when you get your meeting with Mr. Bronson set up, I would like to go with you. Adam offered to loan me some of his father's Defence books, so I could study them. He said they were **really** good because they helped him earn his Mastery in Defence Against the Dark Arts. He also told me that since I was able to cast the Patronus charm at thirteen, I should be able to make good use of his father's books. I figured I might as well take him up on his offer, given that other than Remus and Crouch Jr, who pretended to be Moody last year, most of the Defence instructors we have had were not worth the time we spent in their classes."

Dumbledore listened with interest to the news that Adam Bronson had a Mastery in Defence Against the Dark Arts. He wondered where the man had gotten it since there was no record of him attending Hogwarts. He made a mental note to confirm the Mastery with the Dept of Magical Education. If Bronson did indeed have a Defence Mastery then he would try and see if the man could be persuaded to take the open Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore knew he only had a little over week to find a teacher or the newly passed edict from the Ministry would insure that someone Fudge chose would be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. He could not afford to have someone from the Ministry interfering with his plans for Potter. He also needed to try and see if he could get this Mr. Bronson under his control, since it was quite evident that Harry respected Bronson more right now than he did Dumbledore and at this stage of his plans, Dumbledore could not afford to lose control of the boy.

+++++

Adam just shook his head as he read a few of the stories in the most recent edition of the Daily Prophet. He could not help wondering if the Prophet was borrowing some of its journalists from the non-magical newspaper the Daily Sport. The articles contained in the Daily Prophet were about as believable as the one he had once seen in the Daily Sport about a London bus having been found on the moon.

After the past two weeks, Adam had to agree with Garrick's assessment of most of the British magical community. They seemed to lack basic common sense, which was probably why they seemed to treat the drivel that was printed in the Daily Prophet as if it were holy writ.

Minister Fudge was a prime example of someone who had no common sense. The man definitely had not learned his lesson from Harry's _trial_ a few days ago.

The Minister of Magic was still doing his best to try and remove Harry as a threat to his position and he was using the time-honoured tradition of slandering the young man in the press to try and do it. Apparently the Minister was under the impression that Harry could not or would not fight back against the accusations being made against him. And that if he did, those attempts would be slanted by the Daily Prophet to make Harry appear as even more of a threat to the stability of Magical Britain than he had been presented as so far.

As Harry's solicitor of record, Adam knew that he was going to have to take steps soon to show Minister Fudge _**and**_ the Daily Prophet just how wrong they were. He decided he would start by requesting a meeting with the Senior Editor of the Daily Prophet. Adam was curious to see just how much the Editor was willing to endanger his or her career by continuing the slanderous attacks against one of the owners of the Daily Prophet, given none of the things they had printed regarding Harry were provable. He had a feeling the Senior Editor was gong to be in for a bit of a shock when they found out that the paper had been trying to destroy the reputation of one of their majority shareholders.

Per the goblins a company named Dwyn Mabon Enterprises currently held sixty percent ownership in the Daily Prophet, while the Ministry held thirty, and the executives at the Daily Prophet held ten. The goblins had also advised him that Dwyn Mabon Enterprises had been created by James Potter and Sirius Black, a few months before the Potters went into hiding and that per the instructions in the Potter's will a man named Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were also supposed to have at least one quarter ownership in the company. However given that Remus Lupin was barely making a living, from what Adam had been able to learn, the man was apparently unaware of the fact that he owned part of a business that the goblins had made quite successful.

Harry had inherited his adoptive father’s share of the company as well as part of what would have gone to Pettigrew given the terms of the Potter’s will, because Potter and Black had been the ones to supply the money for the business to be started. Under the terms of the Potter’s will, given that Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters, anything he was to inherit from their will or Dwyn Mabon, were to be divided equally among the remaining shareholders or their heirs. Adam had a feeling that Harry's godfather and this Remus Lupin fellow just might be willing to use their shares if necessary to shut down the Daily Prophet if they refused to stop their attacks on Harry.

Adam was mentally working out the wording he was going to use on the letter he intended to send to the editor, when he heard the rustling sound of wings. Looking up, he saw a barn owl, wearing the harness that indicated it was from Gringotts, settling on to the owl perch near the open window. Putting down the copy of the Daily Prophet he had been reading, Adam walked over to remove the letters that were secured to the owl's leg.

Instead of taking off, once the letters had been removed, the owl settled down on the perch, which told Adam a reply was expected to at least one of the letters.

One of the envelopes had the Hogwarts seal on it and Adam was willing to bet that was from Dumbledore trying to recruit him to be the Defence teacher.

The other envelope was sealed with magical version of scotch tape and had no house seal on it. Adam did a couple of wandless detection spells to make sure there were no compulsion spells on or in it, before opening the envelope addressed: _Adam Bronson_.

_Mr. Bronson,_

_I would first like to thank you for your successful defence of my godson, Harry Potter, at his hearing. I have heard from various sources that you made Fudge look like a fool, not that takes much effort,_

Adam smirked in agreement with that and went on reading,

_while protecting my godson's rights and for that you have earned the gratitude of the Head of the House of Black._

_I have also heard from several sources that you managed at that same hearing to get me the trial I have been denied for so long. That is the main reason I am contacting you today. I would like to retain your services to defend me at my trial. I am currently making arrangements through Gringotts to turn myself over to the Head of the DMLE Amelia Bones, if she will provide a magical oath guaranteeing my safety through the end of my trial and hope to have that taken care of by the 18th of August. I am also hoping that the trial can be completed before September 1st so that my godson will know I have been freed and can finally take custody of him the way his parents intended._

_If you are willing to represent me, please send me a message via Ripgut the account manager for House Black and he will insure that it reaches me._

_I thank you for your time._

_Sirius Orion Black_

_Head of the House of Black_

Adam wrote a short note, agreeing to represent Black at his trial. He also requested in the note that Black contact him as soon as arrangements had been made with Madame. Bones regarding Black turning himself in, so Adam could be there to insure nothing went wrong. Adam also made a mental note to arrange with Madame Bones that Harry, and his friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger as well as Remus Lupin were placed on the witness list, for the hearing, once Black was taken into custody. They would be able to via a magical oath confirm that they had seen Pettigrew alive. The Magical oath would insure that not even Fudge could continue to deliberately ignore information that did not fit in with his view that Black was guilty.

Once that was done he turned his attention to the letter he suspected was from Dumbledore. And it was. Dumbledore was offering him the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.

Adam made a mental note to send something to Myles to thank the Unspeakables for their speed and efficiency. It had only been three days since he had spoken with the man and asked for a record indicating he held a Defence Mastery to be placed in the DME files for Dumbledore to find and the man had taken the bait.

Adam had no doubt that given Dumbledore's ego, the man expected him to be so surprised that the _great **Albus Dumbledore**_ wanted **him** as Defence teacher for Hogwarts that he thought that Adam would fall all over himself to get the job and not realise that Dumbledore was only doing it to try and get control over someone he knew that Harry currently trusted more than him. Adam knew based on what Harry had told him about his previous Defence teachers that most had been a waste of time and space. Adam also knew from Harry about the supposed curse on the Defence position and he needed to get into the castle to find out if that were true, given that prior to the 1970's from what he had been able to learn from Myles, the Defence teacher's were much better and had lasted much longer, usually retiring, instead of having unusual accidents happen to them, like Lockhart accidentally oblivating himself after he had been found out to be a fraud.

The note that Adam wrote to Dumbledore was not a fawning one. In it he indicated that he would be available to meet with him at the Leaky Cauldron this Friday at noon and for one hour only as he had meetings scheduled with clients for the remainder of the week and that was the only time he had available.

Once he had both replies written, Adam sent them back to Gringotts via the waiting owl.

+++++++++++

As Adam entered the crowded main area of the Leaky Cauldron, he heard a surprised sounding voice off to his left call out his name. “Adam, over here!”

Myles Keegan who was waving to attract his attention already had food on the table in front of him. Adam mentally gave the Knight points for his acting skills. If anyone around him were asked later, they would be able to say he had arrived a while ago and had just started eating his lunch when he saw a friend arrive unexpectedly.

Adam walked up to the table and held out his hand, saying, “Myles, it has been a while.”

“Yes, it has,” Myles lied with a smile, as he gestured to the other side of the table. “They have been keeping us pretty busy at the Ministry.”

As Adam sat down opposite him, Myles continued on as if he were meeting up with a friend he had not seen in a while. “How have you been?”

“I have been keeping pretty busy myself thanks to that fool Fudge.” Adam told him, acting the role of a long time friend. “I spent most of this morning at Gringotts arranging for Lord Black to be placed in Ministry custody for his trial next week and insuring that he makes it to that trial… **alive**.”

Adam placed his order and while they were waiting for his food to arrive, even though the Leaky Cauldron was very noisy, Myles told him, in a low voice, “Since you did not ask me to keep this meeting confidential, I mentioned it to the Cennaire. He told me to tell you that depending on his schedule, he may stop by to arrange a meeting with you. We need to begin preparation to deal with that matter you came to the Ministry to take care of about a week or so ago.”

Adam nodded. “I had hoped you might. I have some information that we will definitely need his help to deal with, if we are to have a chance of eliminating that problem Fudge is trying to ignore.”

Myles was a little worried about the serious look on the Sword Master’s face, but quickly changed the subject realising that it was something that should not be discussed in a public setting like the Leaky Cauldron. He decided to give the Sword Master an update on what had been happening in the Ministry, since his last visit by interspersing regular comments with sentences in Gaelic. They both shared a hearty laugh when Myles told him about how the Rune Masters in the Dept of Mysteries were spending nearly every moment they could studying the runes he had placed around Cthulhu’s gate.

Once his food arrived Adam picked up his fork intending to start eating when he was interrupted by a shadow covering the table. Looking up he saw a slender, slightly elderly man who in the non-magical world could pass for being in his early sixties. Just looking at the man there was nothing remarkable about him, not even his thinning grey hair.

“Mr. Bronson,” the stranger’s voice was also pleasantly non-descript, sounding like one of those automated menu greeters on the phone when you called places like the phone company. “I am surprised to see you. I was planning on sending you a message letting you know I was done with the book on Ancient Runes you had lent me and to see if you wanted to come by and pick it up at my office or if you wanted me to return it by owl post.”

“Mr. Croaker, have you had lunch yet?” Myles spoke up before Adam could say anything.

“No, I have not,” the man identified as Mr. Croaker told him.

“Then would you like to join us for lunch?” Adam asked, remembering that the current head of the Unspeakables was Algernon Croaker. “I doubt you would be able to find a free seat right now as the place appears to be very full.”

“Thank you for your kind offer.” Croaker nodded once in acceptance.

Myles slid out of the booth and gestured for his boss to slide in to the semi-circular seat of booth he had chosen for this meeting. Once Croaker was against the back wall, he slid back in, placing himself between Croaker and any possible threats. Myles was not worried about anyone sneaking up from the side Adam was watching, because it would take a very cunning and powerful individual to get past the Sword Master.

Once Croaker’s order was taken, he got straight to business. “I am guessing that your presence here means that Fudge is basically doing his impression of ostrich and pretending that if he wishes hard enough, it will turn into the truth.” Croaker then switched to Pict. While to most of the citizens of magical Britain it was dead language, Croaker knew that both Knight Galahad and the Sword Master would have no trouble understanding him. “How did he survive? And since he has not been heard from in a long while I take it he had to use some ritual to regain a physical body. Do you know what the ritual was?”

Adam’s face took on a solemn expression, “According to a source of mine he made soul vessels. My source also advised me that two have been destroyed and five of them are still remaining that need to be destroyed.”

“He made **seven**!” Croaker could not believe what he was hearing.

“That is what I was told.” Adam confirmed. “We are lucky that he does not know that two of them have been destroyed. According to my source he spread the vessels around to various location and my source is going to see if he can get me the locations, but I was told it will take him some time, since a lot of them are under heavy duty wards. I was also told he has a major obsession regarding the Founders of Hogwarts and that some of their treasures were used as holders, so that may help us locate them, if he can not. I will send you more information as I get it. We need those damn things destroyed. As for the ritual, I was told by Mr. Potter he used the Flesh, Blood, and Bone ritual, with Mr. Potter being the source of the blood, his non-magical father Thomas Riddle’s grave was the source of the bone, and his servant Pettigrew was the source of the flesh.”

“Riddle?” Croaker had heard that name before, though he could not place it.

“Yes,” Adam told him. “It would seem this Dark Lord is a hypocrite as well as a fool. The name tied to the Taboo is an Anagram of his True Name – Tom Marvolo Riddle and he was a half-blood as far as things are concerned these days.”

“And how did you find this out, since it seems no one else knows.” Croaker asked.

“I found out from Mr. Potter,” Adam told him. “And there is at least one other person who knows…. Albus Dumbledore and I think he knew long before Mr. Potter told him.”

“I would be willing to bet that is true.” Croaker agreed then added, “I have noticed that manipulating old fool likes to keep things secret that he really should not, claiming it is for the ‘Greater Good’ and by the time someone finds out he knew the damage has already been done.” Then Croaker asked. “And does anyone else know about the soul vessels, besides the three of us and their maker?”

“Dumbledore does.” Adam told him bluntly. “I am not certain if he knew about the soul vessels before Mr. Potter’s second year at Hogwarts, but I suspect he did, but I am certain he did afterwards based on some things Mr. Potter told me. It seems that in Potter’s second year at Hogwarts, a journal made its way into the school, that Dumbledore chose to ignore.”

“What makes you so sure he ignored it?” While Myles had no love for Dumbledore, he had trouble believing that the Headmaster would violate his oath to the school and endanger the children by allowing a truly dark and evil artefact into Hogwarts with children.

“I helped the Founders set up the wards and unless they failed completely, which they have not or Hogwarts would be visible to Normals and it is not,” Adam told them, “the wards we put up to detect dark objects coming into the castle were then and still are some of the strongest available. For the Headmaster, until the dark object was dealt with, it would be as if a fire alarm were going off in his head all the time. I do not know how Dumbledore is not either insane or dead for violating his oath so badly.” 

Adam went on to explain what had happened. “The journal containing a chunk of Riddle’s soul had been controlling a young girl all year and she almost died due to it draining her life force. He told me that a fairly solid spirit who identified himself as Riddle and also confessed to being the Dork Lord later in life appeared to him in the Chamber of Secrets and spent a bit of time bragging about what he had done and what he was going to do once he was free of the journal. Mr. Potter saved not only the girl’s life, but everyone else’s that day. He managed to stop Riddle by stabbing the journal with the basilisk fang that had been lodged in his arm when he killed the basilisk.”

“There was a basilisk at Hogwarts and Dumbledore never notified the Ministry abut it?” Croaker almost sounded like he was growling.

“There was, though to be fair, none of the Headmasters after the Founders knew about it. Salazar placed below Hogwarts as a source of protection against goblins or any other Dark creatures who might try and get into the school by coming in from underneath the castle.” Adam told them earning a surprised look from the pair then returned to the tale of Potter’s second year at Hogwarts. “Mr. Potter advised me that Dumbledore has the journal in his possession because Potter delivered it back to him after using it to free a House Elf of Lucius Malfoy’s. He also got a full report on everything that happened in the Chamber, so if he did not know for certain before that that Riddle had created soul vessels, he did after Potter’s second year.”

Myles looked over at his boss when the Sword Master had finished giving them a brief overview of what had happened in Potter’s second year, and finally understood what Jacob Croft had told him once. Jacob had warned that if their boss’ face ever looked like he had just seen a Medusa but his eyes held the fire of a hellhound in full and furious hunt, to find a hole, jump in it and pull the hole in after him, because someone was about to die and it would be _**very messy**_. Croaker’s face was an expressionless almost corpselike mask and his normally calm eyes looked as though the fires of hell were burning there. He almost felt sorry for Dumbledore…. almost.

++++++++

When Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, he was surprised at how crowded it was. He had deliberately arrived early because he wanted to get an idea of who Bronson’s friends were, to see if there were any he could use to influence Bronson to coming around to his way of thinking.

He finally located the man sitting in a semi-circular booth near the door into the yard that let people gain access to Diagon Alley and the expression on his face was very intent as he talked to a man whose back was facing toward Dumbledore. He decided to do a little eavesdropping and see what they discussing that had them both looking so serious.

When Dumbledore reached the table he was glad that he had remembered to wear the ring he had enchanted with a permanent translation spell for any language, when he had became the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, otherwise he would not have understood a word they were saying. The ring had helped him keep one step ahead of the ICW delegates when they did not really want to him to know what they were planning.

“The worst part is that idiot Fudge does not realise the danger he is placing the magical community in by denying Riddle’s return, not just here in Britain but every other magical community in the world. And this is aside from the fact that his inaction is insuring that the Aurors among others will not be prepared to deal with the Deatheaters, or the other Dark creatures Riddle will no doubt be recruiting before he comes out of hiding.” Was what Dumbledore heard when the translation spell kicked in a few seconds after Bronson finished speaking.

“How so, Adam?” he heard a voice ask.

“The Charter, giving the British magical community the right of self rule, is only good as long as the King or Queen of non-magical Britain _does not_ declare it null and void. The current ruler of non-magical Britain, Queen Elizabeth the II, **is not** a fool. Given that the majority of Britain uses electricity to power and heat their homes… not gas, the gas leak causing an explosion story is not going to work too many times. She will start demanding answers. Also, from what I have observed, she is not one to suffer fools gladly. If Fudge tries to dodge or lie to her, she will declare the magical community in violation of the charter and declare it null and void so fast, it will make Fudge’s head spin like a top. And that is not even including the fact that Magical Britain is not following the laws of Britain, which according to the terms of the charter we have to or we all risk losing our magic.”

“What do you mean?” another voice asked that sounded very familiar to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore decided now would be a good time interrupt the conversation. The last thing he needed were the citizens of magical Britain finding out that their magic might be at risk, not to mention their sovereignty, if the issue with Voldemort attracted the attention of the ruler of non-magical Britain. There would be mass riots at the very least if they heard that the ruler of the non-magical world held that much power over them. He also made a mental note to have a talk with Harry about discussing Voldemort with others and telling them things they did not need to know, because that was the only way that Mr. Bronson could have learned Voldemort’s real name.

"Mr. Bronson," Dumbledore spoke up before Bronson could say another word. "I am here for our interview."

Adam took a look at his watch. "You are early. Our appointment is for noon, not eleven forty-five."

"What are you being interviewed for, Adam?" Dumbledore got his first good look at the speaker whose voice had sounded so familiar and froze…. It was one of the last people he ever expected to see in the Leaky Cauldron… _Algernon Croaker Head of the Unspeakables_.

"Defence Against Dark Arts Teacher." Adam told him. "The position is apparently open... again."

"Ah yes," Croaker nodded, "that curse on the DADA position is still active. Well, maybe you will be the one to break its hold on Hogwarts."

"I am a hard man to get rid of." Adam agreed. "People have been trying for years. Of course, this may also be Dumbledore’s attempt to remove me, since I seem to be in a position of influence with Mr. Potter, even though I have not known the young man that long."

"Albus," Croaker pulled Dumbledore’s attention away from Bronson, before he had a chance to deny that he was trying remove Bronson as a source of influence over Harry.

"Algernon," Dumbledore could not help wondering what connection the solicitor had with the Head of the Unspeakables. 

Croaker leaned back against the wall of the booth with his hands folded together on the table in front of him. "We need to talk about things you have been keeping from my Department, Albus, that are within **our** area of responsibility."

While the Head of the Unspeakables appeared calm on the outside, Dumbledore could tell that he was hiding his anger. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Algernon. I have not encountered anything recently that should involve your Department."

"My department should have been notified when you received Riddle’s journal, two years ago." Croaker pointed out and though his voice sounded calm there was a definite bite to his words.

"I fail to see where my being given the journal of a former Hogwarts student is any of your department’s business." Dumbledore tried to make it sound as though Voldemort's journal was an innocent book.

Croaker leaned forward, his gaze fastened on Dumbledore. "Let’s quit the word games, Dumbledore, you and I both **know** what that book **was** and why that makes it _**my**_ department's business. Next Monday after Mr. Black's trial is concluded, I expect to see you in my office and you **will** bring Riddle’s journal with you. I would also **strongly** advise that you **do not** make me come looking for you. Let us just say if you do, the results will not be pleasant."

Adam mentally applauded Croaker's approach in dealing with Dumbledore. 

While sounding calm and collected the Cennaire of the Unspeakables never the less made it very clear that disobeying his instructions would result in a penalty Dumbledore would not want to pay. Adam could tell that Croaker was furious because Dumbledore had kept the knowledge of Riddle's soul vessels a secret for at least two years, possibly longer, in defiance of magical law. Most of those who went to the trouble of creating a soul vessel rarely made more than one, but a few like Riddle were just crazy enough to make more, not realising or maybe not caring about the damage it did to their soul and their sanity. Riddle's soul vessels needed to be found as soon as possible so he could be dealt with once and for all.

The laws in magical Britain and other countries were very clear regarding soul vessels. By law, as Chief Warlock, Dumbledore should have alerted the Department of Mysteries to the fact that one had been found even though that one had been destroyed by Harry, so that any traces of the magic used to create it, that were left behind, could be used to track any others that might have been made. It was one of the few laws that even the Darkest of families followed. 

Adam also had no doubt that Croaker would use the information that the Headmaster had deliberately violated a law that ranked even above using an Unforgivable curse, by keeping information about a soul vessel from the magical government a secret, against Dumbledore one day. It was one of the things he had drilled into the Unspeakables when he first set the group up; _never take anything or anyone on faith and always collect information no matter from what source, because you never knew when that information would come in handy_.

"And on that note, I think we should get our business taken care of Dumbledore, before someone says something that might attract a lot of unwanted attention." Adam was looking at the Headmaster as he spoke, as if implying the man might stick his foot in it. "I reserved a private room for our meeting."

As Adam got to his feet, he told Croaker, "Mr. Croaker, it was a pleasure to see you. I will come by on Monday, as well to pick up my book, since I will be there as Mr. Black’s solicitor. Pleasure seeing you again as well, Myles."

While Croaker did not take his eyes off of the Headmaster, he nodded once, saying. "I will look forward to it."

"You as well, Adam." Myle told him.

Adam led Dumbledore to the room he had reserved, and once the door was closed behind the Headmaster, the man commented. “I am surprised that you are acquainted with Mr. Croaker. He is usually a very private individual and does not go out in public much.”

Having expected Dumbledore to ask how he knew Croaker in some fashion, Adam gave him the answer he had prepared. “He knew my father, Robert Bronson, who died in the attack on Grindelwald’s fortress. I have seen him periodically over the years. After my father's death he started to come over, usually to borrow some of my father's books but I think it was more of a way to watch over my mother and I for my father. After my mother passed on, he still came by occasionally and I continued the practice of loaning him books when he asked to borrow them.”

Dumbledore seemed surprised by this bit of news and also looked a little worried by it, which was what Adam had intended. He had no doubt that Dumbledore was wondering if Robert Bronson had been an Unspeakable sent along on the raid to make sure that his former lover had been dealt with… permanently. He also had no doubt that Dumbledore was also wondering just how close a friend Croaker had been to Bronson, given he had not been Cennaire of the Unspeakables during World War II, only a member given the information Adam had access to.

“I am surprised he did not recruit you for his department, given he knew you well.” Dumbledore commented. “Not to mention that you seem to be quite a capable wizard.”

“Your compliments are not going to win you any points with me, Dumbledore.” Adam told him. “If I agree to take the job as Defence teacher, all you will be gaining is a temporary employee. I am not one that you can con into being a blind follower of your Greater Good philosophy. In fact, from what I have heard about your so-called ‘Greater Good’ philosophy, it reminds me a lot of what my father wrote in his journals about Gellert Grindelwald’s beliefs.”

Dumbledore stood there silently, before commenting. “I can not recall a time when anyone has compared my desire to help magical Britain become the best it can be to the beliefs of the Dark Lord Grindelwald and his followers.”

“The truth hurts,” was all Bronson said.

“If you believe I am little better than Grindelwald, why are you even considering taking the Defence position, especially since you know about the potential curse?” Dumbledore could not help being curious.

“It is certainly not for the honour of teaching at _Hogwarts_ under the “Great and all Powerful” _Dumbldore_.” Bronson told him bluntly. “I am considering the position for one reason only, so that the next generation of witches and wizards will have a better chance at surviving, than their parents do now because of what you have done to them. Unlike that fool Fudge, I **know** Voldemort is back and that he **must** be stopped, by **whatever** means necessary and so must his followers. To paraphrase a mundane movie that I am very fond of, if you hire me as the Defence teacher, then by the time I am done with teaching my students, they will know when to bring a gun to a knife fight metaphorically speaking. They will not die because they will know when to fight fire with fire and not with tickling charms.”

“Using violence solves nothing. It just creates more anger and hatred.” Dumbledore countered, not used to someone being so blunt with him. “I **refuse** to allow you to teach the children to fight violence with violence.”

Bronson folded his arms across his chest and smirked. “Then you will have to deal with whoever Fudge appoints. I **know** about the law he recently got passed. If you do not have a teacher to fill that position by next Monday, then the Defence teacher will be appointed by the Minister and will most likely the one with best the best suck-up skills, or the one he felt he could get the most of what he wanted out of, which is you and Potter marginalized and your reputations destroyed.”

Dumbledore stood there, the expression on his face looking to Adam as if he had just been pushed face first into a pit of dragon dung and did not know how to get out of it. It was very apparent to Adam that Dumbledore clearly not used to being the one who had no power or authority. 

Resisting the urge to grin as the silence stretched, Adam finally asked. “So do you still wish to hire me to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, this year, even knowing full well that I will not be teaching them how to be pacifists? If not, then I have things I need to take care of.”

Dumbledore nodded. He would not have to worry about Bronson being a teacher at Hogwarts for more than a year because of Tom’s Curse. And he was confident the next teacher could undo the more violent things this man chose to teach.

Pulling an envelope out of his pocket, Bronson handed it to Dumbledore as he headed for the door. “That is the book list for my classes.”

Bronson was out the door before Dumbledore could tell him the booklists had already been sent out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (AN: For the purposes of this story, Croaker looks and acts in many ways like an older version of Phil Coulson from The Avengers Movies and Agents of Shield. Also for those who say I am engaging in Hermione bashing I am not. I see her in many ways like a younger and female Dumbledore. She thinks she knows better than anyone else how things should go. SPEW if nothing else is a perfect example of that. Nor is she the most tactful person in the room. She is kind of like Molly in that fashion. Also there is the fact that for at least 4 years Harry and Ron never stood up to her and refused to do as she told them to and now Harry is and she doesn’t know how to take it, which is going to bring out her inner bitch. I have no idea which chapter will be out next. I am hoping to get the next chapter of Wiccan Wizard started or maybe the next part of the Wizard of Silence. Will have to see which plunnie is the pushiest.)


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